When Angels Cry
by Ireina Kurotsuki
Summary: AU,YYxYB,YMxM,DartzxSeto. When he died, Bakura’s faith in any God was shattered. Having an... essentially good soul, he became an angel. Several years pass, and a certain person's guardian angel dissapears, and Bakura is made the 'temporary' replacement.
1. Guardians and Warriors

When Angels Cry 1- Guardians and Warriors.

* * *

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh and all its characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi. I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement. The only thing I own is the AU and the angel legends.

**---------------------------------------------**

Yaoi/shonen-ai. If you don't like, please don't read. Flames will be extinguished with great prejudice due to the fact that it is bushfire season and I hate bushfires. Many Australians do.

**---------------------------------------------  
**Rated for bloody descriptions of battle and later limes. (You know I can't resist!)

And if my beta has her way, probably a lemon or two as well... --;

**---------------------------------------------**

Hey everyone! I know, I really shouldn't be working on ANOTHER story when I have two unfinished ones already... But I figured that while I search for my Demonic Tenshi drafts I might as well just get rid of _this_ plotbunny.

Enjoy!

Ireina

* * *

Full Summary: When he died under torture, Bakura's faith in any God was shattered. Still essentially good, he was offered a place in Heaven. He turned it down, preferring instead to become a warrior angel and fight the demons which constantly crawl from the Underworld. 

Several hundred years pass, and a certain child's Guardian Angel disappears mysteriously. Bakura is sent to investigate, before being conscripted for the protective duty.

The cynical warrior-angel reluctantly agrees and is pulled from the front line. But what happens when his charge grows up and Bakura begins to fall for him?

* * *

The white-haired man slashed with the flaming sword in his hand, felling the twisted being in front of him, parrying a blow from a darkly-glowing mace simultaneously. 

He grinned, catlike eyes glowing with glee in the angular white planes of his face at the dark red, blood-like liquid that splashed up as he severed an arm from a creature trying to pull him down into the fray on the ground.

Battle- heated and bloody slaughter against a multitude of evil creatures that would climb up to attack the unknowing mortals up in the no-man's land called Earth.

It was enough to make his heart sing. At least when he fought he could pretend at having some form of purpose.

"Behind you, Bakura!" came a yelled warning.

He spun and neatly dispatched the creature attempting to sever one of his silvery white wings.

"Thanks Malik!"

"Welcome." was the awkward response as the sandy-blonde man with tawny wings whom had warned him of the impending danger crossed blades with yet another of the endless horde.

He paused for a brief break, and as he landed at the fringes of the angelic camp, he was approached by several individuals, including one who looked very similar to the angel called Malik, save the style of his hair and shading of his eyes.

And the fact that this mans' wings were in fact, black.

"Hello Bakura." he smirked.

"What do you want _now_, Marik?" Bakura sighed, lowering the sword he'd drawn at the sight of the group of suspicious people.

"You know there's no reason to fight Heaven's battles. You and the others are out here, risking your necks, and for what? Some lazy angels and a God who wouldn't even lift a finger while you were screaming on the rack? For your _faith_ in this very God no less!" Marik snorted.

Bakura narrowed his eyes. "And what else am I supposed to do? Go back up there and hobnob around with those lazy ones? Or choose to ally myself with the very demons that condemned all of my faith to torture?" He raised his sword-tip to be pointing at the man's face.

Here the black-winged man smirked.

"What about neither?"

"What do you mean?" Bakura frowned suspiciously, lowering the sword once more.

"You could choose to take _no_ side- and become a Fallen one."

"Fallen one, hm?" Bakura scoffed. "I think not. I'm happy fighting here- I enjoy the bloodshed."

"I still fail to see how you made angel at all with blood-thirst like that. But, should you change your mind, you know how to find me." winked the black-winged angel, melting back into the battle and disappearing.

Bakura sighed. 'Stupid idiot.' he thought to himself, leaping back into the chaos.

**---------------------------------------------**

"Captain Akefia Bakura?!"

"What?" he asked, not bothering to turn at the familiar voice, opting instead to sweep another demon's head from its shoulders.

"The Archangel wants to see you."

"Tell the old woman I'll be there shortly."

There was a small laugh. "I'll tell her in…more polite terms."

Reluctantly, he carefully headed towards the edges of the fray, pausing only to discourage the few who attempted to attack him.

**---------------------------------------------**

"_Are you sure it's a good… chose Akefia? His faith in the Lord is not…needs stronger…"_

"…_no other choice…"_

The warrior angel known as Captain Akefia Bakura, currently leader of Heaven's Fifth Battalion in the Eternal War against the demons of the abyss quirked an eyebrow as he paused outside the door to the Archangel's chambers, listening to the conversation.

"_The child needs… strong…"_

"_Bakura…fine. In fact…" _The voice got clearer and the door opened. "He's so well suited he's here already. Please, come in."

Not batting an eyelid Bakura entered the room, in which sat another angel, this one much older than he- and female.

"Why am I here, if I may ask?"

"You are a warrior among our kind, are you not?" came the question from the blonde female angel whom was sitting in the middle of the room.

"Yes, but you ought to know that already, Archangel."

"There is an assignment available for you that I feel would be rather well suited to you…" started the other angel.

"Or it _would_ have been if you weren't lurking around outside doors eavesdropping." stated the female, frowning.

"If you _don't _mind, I couldn't _help_ overhearing your conversation. For all I know, you could have _wanted_ me to overhear!" the white-haired angel bristled.

"There is a traitor in our midst. One of the Gates to Earth was breached. Before we could re-seal it, several demons escaped- high level ones with the ability to shape-shift."

Bakura frowned. "I remember the breach, but I did not know that anything got through. Wait- you can't seriously believe that I was responsible for it?!" he said, raising his voice in incredulous anger.

The Archangel frowned. "He has such anger. Perhaps I should assign someone more even-tempered to the task…"

"He'll do _fine_. Actually, it just serves to make him seem even more human." smiled the other male angel who had opened the door for him.

"Could someone _please _just tell me what's going on, instead of avoiding the subject?" Bakura asked, pinching the bridge of his nose. This was why he didn't feel comfortable in here- they always danced around him playing games (not that me _minded_ now and again- he enjoyed manipulating others as much as fighting, but playing them all the time became tiring.

The Archangel tilted her head to one side, contemplatingly tapping her lower lip with her fingernail.

"You know of the Guardians, yes?"

Bakura nodded impatiently. Even as a human he'd known of guardian angels- though upon _becoming_ an angel, he'd learned that only the most powerful angels (who had no care for endless battle) volunteered for a hundred years or so of guarding a single mortal against spiritual danger/mistakes.

First rule of guardianship- you guide and guard against _spiritual_ harm i.e. demons and such. You do _not_ interfere when it comes to physical danger.

Not Bakura's cup of tea- if he couldn't do a job properly and completely, then why do it?

"Well, since the breach, we've had trouble contacting this boy's angel to inform him of the demon's escape." she explained, holding up a photo. Barely glancing at the picture, Bakura continued listening to the Archangel.

"We think he may have been… dispatched. We need someone to go down there…"

"And protect this child from attacking demons? My sword-arm is strong, I can do that." Bakura interrupted, interested in the idea of a vacation from the Endless War- and the annoying other angels up the top…

"Not quite. We need someone to get close as only a mortal could and find out exactly what the situation _is _down there. A… reconnaissance mission if you will."

"Then, if we discover it is necessary to assign the boy a new Guardian we can do so."

**---------------------------------------------**

Bakura tilted his head to the side frowning. Not exactly what he'd had in mind but…

"So I get a break from constant battle for a sevenday?"

"Perhaps longer, depending. If you accept, I will be your contact on the Earth." said the other male angel, inclining his head, long aqua hair spilling over his cheeks.

"I'll do it. I enjoy battle; don't get me wrong, there's just _something_ about the way they _bleed_…" Bakura started, oblivious to the horrified-slash-shocked face of the Archangel and the slightly amused knowing smirk on the aqua-haired angel's face. "…but a small vacation would be welcome." he finished.

"Don't forget it's a _working_ vacation, Captain Akefia." said the Archangel, recovering swiftly from her earlier shock.

Bakura flapped his hand dismissively. "I know, I know Lady Melanie."

She frowned slightly at the overly familiar form of address as the man with the rare (even among the higher ranking angels) pure silvery-white wings fluttered from the room.

**---------------------------------------------**

Looking at the woman, the aqua-haired angel raised golden eyes from the (now shut) yew-panelled door. She caught his gaze with her own midnight-blue orbs and he gave a carefully neutral smile before dipping his head in a brief bow and gracefully rising from the chair.

"I shall go and make the required arrangements for our stay in the mortal realm." he told her in a quiet voice, and with gentle beats of his formidably sized bluish wings, left through the opened window.

**---------------------------------------------**

Taking long strides, Akefia Bakura, Captain of the Fifth Battalion in the Heavenly Host pouted as he walked (near-ran would perhaps be a more accurate description) through the green lawns of the cherry-blossom viewing park.

It had been a long time since he'd properly _walked_- without cheating by using his wings (which, of course were hidden under a cloak of magic) and he was beginning to remember just _why_ he cheated.

He was alone, having managed to somehow lose his aqua-haired counterpart (in itself an awe-inspiring feat) among the throng of mortals gathering to view what they called 'sakura'- what _he_ called annoying pink flowers that just wouldn't stay out of his hair.

Scowling and muttering to himself as he stomped through the gardens in search of the idiot who was _supposed_ to be better acquainted with the modern-day mortals than he, Bakura attracted several stares (more than a few of them rather admiring)

As he continued 'walking', he slowed as the crowds thinned, finally dispersing altogether at the end of the park, he found a clearing in amongst several of the trees dripping with flowers.

What made him stop was not the simple beauty of the cherry blossoms in that particular area, but the tiny child sitting in the middle of said clearing, happily holding a hissing conversation with the snake that was curled around his arm.

**---------------------------------------------**

Obeying an unexplainable, yet irresistible pull, the angel cautiously approached the small child and, upon seeing the angel, the snake gave a particularly loud, malevolent hiss and slid from the child, darting off into the bushes. Bakura narrowed his eyes at this suspicious behaviour on the snake's behalf.

The child turned, trying to see what had made his 'friend' leave so suddenly. Upon his red-brown eyes meeting the clear ruby gaze of the child, said child's eyes widened, and he (for the child was obviously a boy, judging from his clothing) said in an awed and sweetly toned voice; "Angel!" and pointed at Bakura.

This gave Bakura a shock. _**No-one**_ should have been able to see his wings. No-one. And yet, evidently this small boy _could_.

The boy carefully stood and awkwardly he toddled towards Bakura. Just before reaching him however, he tripped on something and would have crashed painfully to the ground had Bakura not obeyed a long-buried protective instinct and quickly reached out his arms and caught the child.

The child in his arms gave a small cry of surprise, and Bakura fully expected him to start crying, but instead, the boy reached up with a small hand and gently caught hold of an errant lock of white hair.

"Angel-man wanna come and play?" asked the magenta-eyed child, smiling up at Bakura, who couldn't stop a slight smile from creeping onto his catlike features at this innocent invitation.

"Why not." he said, smiling fully and, replacing the boy on the ground, he allowed himself to be towed to the centre of the clearing.

**---------------------------------------------**

The boy introduced himself as Yami-Atemu ("but," he'd said confidentially; "I like Atemu better.") He had then, when Bakura told him _his _name, proceeded to shorten 'Bakura' to 'Kura' instead.

At one point, Atemu pulled Bakura back to sit on the ground, wings trailing slightly on the grass.

Bakura was surprised when the curious child crawled into his lap and proceeded to reverently stroke his wings.

"Why are you doing that?" he inquired.

"Because I don't wanna step on the bottoms of your wings, Kura! And I want to see what they feel like!"

"Here then." Bakura shifted the child from his lap and stretched his wings out for the child's inspection.

Atemu gave a beatific smile and immediately set to petting the soft silver-white feathers, running his tiny hands down a selected wing to the point where the feathers gave way to the smooth flesh of Bakura's back through the shirt that had been modified to suit his wings, and back along the rest of the wing before switching to the other wing.

Bakura would later question _why_ he'd allowed this strange child to touch his wings- as the most sensitive area of an angel's body they could really be hurt if one wasn't careful.

But if one _was_ careful… it became a rather pleasurable sensation. Bakura leaned his head back, practically purring at the sensation. He closed his eyes with a small smile.

It wasn't long before both of them fell asleep in the warmth of the sun, lulled by the quiet and the soothing repetition of Atemu's hands on the soft feathers larger than Atemu's own face.

**---------------------------------------------**

That was how Dartz found them, the powerful angel curled into a ball, wings covering his face in sleep.

"Wake up, Bakura."

The angel moved slightly and said; "Shush." Carefully, he moved one of his white wings slightly and there, nestled underneath the screen of white feathers, curled against the warmth of Bakura's body was the sleeping child.

Replacing his wing, Bakura said softly, "He sees them, Dartz. And the child- Atemu was talking to what I think was a demon disguised as a snake. And… as soon as he saw me… he called me an angel."

Dartz frowned. The one-time royal-prince-now-angel had not expected this at all. This was the child whose Guardian was missing. There was no mistaking that odd crimson and black spiked hair with gold bangs. But it had not been mentioned that the boy had the ability to discern angels from mortals.

It was likely, however that the ability would leave the boy as he aged- many supernatural abilities in mortals did.

"I would not have picked you for the nurturing type, Bakura." He could almost _feel_ the furious glare the other angel was sending his way.

"I'm not. The child was touching my wings and I must've fallen asleep."

"Touching your _wings_?" Usually only family and/or lovers would allow each other to touch their wings, not to mention that since Bakura had arrived he had been fierce in keeping away from the simplest of contact.

The aqua-haired angel found this behaviour on Bakura's part _**extremely**_ out of character.

"He wanted to see what they felt like." came the slightly defensive reply.

"Bakura, you are easily the most suspicious person I know- and that's counting the Archangel and Malik. Forgive my amusement and surprise at you allowing such a familiar gesture."

Out of the blue, Bakura jumped, before scowling and peeking beneath his wing. "Stop that!"

There was a soft, somewhat sleepy giggle. "Why?"

"Because it _tickles _damn it!"

"_Bakura_." Dartz admonished, hiding a smile. "Language."

"Well," the child started thoughtfully. "… I woke up, and I tried to get your wing to move, but it was too heavy, and you didn't even notice I was awake! So I thought I should get your attention so you'd move it." Atemu pointed out with all the logic of a small child as Bakura moved his wing, standing as he did so.

"Hello." greeted the aqua-haired angel.

"What's your name?" asked the boy, tilting his head to the side. "I'm Yami Atemu."

"I am called Dartz."

"That's a _weird_ name." Atemu said bluntly (as children are so given to do.)

Dartz chuckled. "Not where I was born." he said cryptically. "Where are your parents? Did you get lost?"

"Mama's gone, and… so is Daddy. My uncle looks after me now." The child's lower lip began to wobble.

Anticipating the impending disaster, Bakura picked up Atemu, quickly soothing the boy. "There now." he said awkwardly. "It's all right. We'll help you find your uncle."

"The snake… said that too… but… he left."

Both of the angels frowned. "Oh really? It said that, did it?" Dartz asked.

The child nodded, clinging closer to Bakura. "Uh-huh."

"Don't worry; we won't leave you till we find your uncle." Dartz assured him, frown deepening.

"Promise?

"Promise."

**---------------------------------------------**

The two angels and their young charge walked through the park. They came across a small area where several children played under the watchful eyes of their parents.

"Why don't we take a break for a while? Go play with the others." urged Dartz, sending a meaningful look to the other winged man.

"Yes, go play for a bit." Bakura agreed, catching on and letting Atemu down.

"Okay!" beamed Atemu, racing off to join in with the other children.

Bakura looked at his companion. "What did you need to speak to me about?"

"Atemu is the child whose Guardian recently disappeared." Dartz began, speaking in the old, forgotten dialect that was Bakura's native tongue- a much younger cousin of his own.

"You're sure?" Bakura replied in the same language.

The other inclined his head in affirmation. "There is no mistaking him. Though perhaps, had you paid more attention to the briefing, you would have known that already."

Bakura blanched. "That demon-snake… it left as soon as it sensed me- _it wasn't expecting a guardian angel to be with the boy_!" he said urgently. "It was trying to talk to him. And Atemu was talking back."

In itself, it would not have been bad, a Guardian Angel would ordinarily have prevented the snake-slash-demon from getting anywhere _near_ the boy- _**had his Guardian not disappeared**_.

"This is way beyond one missing Guardian. They're plotting something. Something big."

Dartz nodded solemnly. "I'm afraid so." They looked at the child. "Though what they want with him in particular is quite beyond me.

"We must find his family swiftly and return to the Archangel as soon as possible." Bakura said, carefully hiding his newfound reluctance to let the child from his sight.

**---------------------------------------------**

"You have weird eyes!"

"And stupid hair!"

Both the angels swivelled towards the sound, eyes immediately searching for the child they'd just left to play.

They had turned just in time to watch a tall blonde boy push Atemu over, a brunette boy beside him, laughing.

Bakura narrowed his eyes. Dartz caught this and laid a hand on his shoulder.

"Be nice, they are only young remember."

"For God's sake, I'm not going to break their necks. A few _bruises_ though…"

"No."

"Fine then." Bakura grouched.

As the white-haired angel stalked over however, a second brunette child a few years older than Atemu, closer to the other two boys in age ran up to the group, ice-blue eyes flashing.

"Leave Atemu alone!" he yelled, helping the younger boy to his feet, pushing Atemu behind him.

"What you gonna do- _make_ us, Seto?" sneered the blonde.

The boy they now knew as Seto balled his small hands into fists. "If I have to! He's my cousin, you stupid moron, Jounouchi, of course I'm not going to let you push him around."

Bakura reached them, red-brown eyes flashing. "Hey you brats, leave the child alone! What has he done to _you_?"

"Existed." sniggered the blonde.

"Yeah you weirdo! My dad could kick your butt!" added the boy's brown-haired companion.

Dartz rolled his eyes and strode over to join them, placing a slender hand on the other man's shoulder. "Don't rise to it, Bakura."

"Ooh, who's _she_?" the brown-haired boy asked, sniggering. "Your _girlfriend_?"

Dartz narrowed his eyes. "I am a _male_ you imbecilic child. My voice should have given a hint, not to mention the fact that my body is obviously a man. Even such as _you_ should have noticed that." he retorted sharply.

"Even better. Is he your… _boyfriend_?"

At this, Bakura's eyes widened. "Of course not! Give me credit for having _taste _at least."

"Thanks." Dartz said wryly.

"No offence, but you're just _not_ my type. Back to _these_ lot, however." Bakura grabbed them by the collars of their shirts, picking them up and he said, now face-to-face with the miscreants: "You will leave this child alone. You will not cause harm to him or his family again. If you do, you shall be dealing with one very angry ang…"

"Ahem."

"Man." Bakura hurriedly corrected himself. "Do. You. Understand. Me?"

They nodded fearfully and Bakura dropped them with a disgusted look on his face as they raced off.

"Are you well, Atemu?" he inquired, squatting down and taking the boy's chin between forefinger and thumb and examining his face critically.

"Who are you?" asked Seto suspiciously.

"I am Dartz. This is my associate Bakura."

"I'm _fine_ Kura! Let _go_ of me!" exclaimed Atemu, squirming out of the angel's grip. "This's my cousin Seto." Turning to his cousin, Atemu quickly explained how he'd gotten lost and that Bakura and his friend with the weird name had helped him.

Luckily for the two angels, he saw fit not to inform his cousin of the wings that marked the two as angels.

"Hmph. Dad's been looking for you. Mum's over here. Come."

Bakura stood, turning as though to leave when an impulse struck him. "I would speak with your aunt and uncle Atemu. Would that be feasible?"

"He means would he be allowed to speak with your aunt and uncle?" Dartz translated, seeing the uncomprehending look on the children's faces.

"That's ok! Come on!" And with that, Atemu placed his small hand in Bakura's larger one, dragging the older man behind him. "Uh, Seto? Where'd you say Aunt was?"

Bakura allowed a faint smile to creep onto his features.

**---------------------------------------------**

Eventually they came to a woman on a picnic blanket, a small black-haired baby in her lap. She looked up.

"Yami, where _were_ you? We've been worried sick!" she exclaimed, relieved smile on her face. "I'd give you a hug, but I'm nursing Mokie."

"I got lost. Kura and his friend helped me. They're my new friends!"

The woman's strange dusky purple eyes shifted to Bakura, and she smiled secretively. "Yes, I would imagine they _did _help you. Thank you. Both of you."

Bakura stepped forward, comprehension dawning on his face. "You know."

She inclined her head in a tiny gesture of assent.

"Then look after him." He plucked a single long, white feather from his wing with a wince (though to Seto, at least, it seemed to have been plucked from thin air) and handed it to the lady.

"You know how this is to be used, I presume?"

"Bakura- be _careful_. You shouldn't hand your feathers over to just anyone." cautioned his aqua-haired companion.

"Dartz. I won't leave this child in the hands of God. You know how I feel about that." Bakura said in a steely voice. "I know what I'm doing."

"Are you sure you do?" said man said softly.

Ignoring the bluish-winged angel, Bakura knelt on the ground before Atemu. "Stay safe. I have to go now. You may not see me for a while."

"But… I want you to _stay_!"

"I can't Atemu. I have… business to attend to. I will come back to see you though."

The boy sniffed, ruby eyes glistening with unshed tears and his heart gave a twist in his chest. "Promise?"

He gave a crooked smile, ruffling the boy's crimson and black spiky hair. "Promise."

The young child sprung forward and his arms wrapped tightly around the taller man's slender waist, silent tears absorbing into the soft material of Bakura's clothing. He didn't want to lose his new friend- the angel made him feel so much safer than he had since his parents had died.

"Here." Bakura whispered in his ear, and a small feather and a cross were pressed into his hands. "I _will _return. I promise little one."

* * *

Hope you all liked! Stay tuned for chapter two! 

Smile :D

Ireina


	2. Falling

**When Angels Cry 2- Fallen  
**

* * *

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh and all its characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi. I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement. The only thing I own is the AU and the angel legends

**---------------------------------------------**

Yaoi/shonen-ai. If you don't like, please don't read. Flames will be extinguished with great prejudice due to the fact that it is bushfire season and I hate bushfires. Many Australians do.

**---------------------------------------------**

Rated for bloody descriptions of battle and later limes. (You know I can't resist!)

And if my beta has her way, probably a lemon or two as well... --;

This chapter is dedicated to my lovely reviewers! 

Yami no Queen

Cavialover

Rogue1979

Shadow Cat17

YumiStar

Naruto101Lov

Minasantaria

Nyan Rajanu 

I'm glad you all seem to like this story! Hope you also enjoy this chapter!!

Smile:D

Ireina

* * *

Bakura had been relegated back to the front line, his squadron of fellow warrior- angels more than pleased at their comrade's return. But- although the battles were just as bloody and just as heated as before, he found he did not take as much pleasure in them as he had before.

The angel had become absent and distracted much of the time, and it was beginning to worry Malik- who had become the closes thing to a friend Bakura possessed in Heaven's host.

**---------------------------------------------**

"All right Bakura, what in God's name is wrong with you? The way you act- it's as though you're not really here, as though you're somewhere else entirely, and it's really beginning to worry us. You've been so different since your return from the mortal realm. Did something happen while you were there?"

"…I have _not_ been absent minded."

"Bakura, you almost cut _my _arm off instead of that demon's yesterday."

"I'm sure you're exaggerating."

"You just put your sword in the kitchen and hung your lunch in the armoury!" exclaimed Malik.

Bakura looked up, and indeed, there was a leather bag of rations hanging from the 'wall' of the tent that served as a makeshift armoury in the angelic camp.

"Perhaps there is some truth in what you say." Bakura admitted, re-claiming the bag from the hook it sat on.

"So tell me. What happened?"

"There was this mortal…" he started hesitantly. Actually, he wasn't even sure _what_ it was that distracted him so. But that was where the exploits in the mortal realm started, so he felt it best to start from the beginning. Maybe _he_ could pinpoint what was bothering him.

"Oh really? _Do_ tell. Was she good-looking?" asked the other angel mischievously.

Bakura looked at the man with the tawny-gold wings with an expression somewhat akin to shock. "It wasn't like _that_ you idiot."

"I'm _sure_."

"For one thing, it was a _he_ and for a second thing, he is a _child_. So _no_ it definitely was _**not**_ like that."

"Oh. So what's wrong then? How in God's name did a child manage to distract you this much?"

**---------------------------------------------**

Now that he looked back on what had occurred, Bakura had made several connections, and had a pretty accurate idea of what had him so distracted. You see, he was not accustomed to worrying about others- well save those in his group of angelic defenders, but that feeling was entirely different from this _new_ variation that was haunting his every waking moment. He worried that the child would be attacked buy demons, that they would hurt him- or worse.

Bakura supposed it was because of the way _he'd_ died that his mind was able to so easily conjure up such terrible images of exactly _what_ the demons could do to the child. Not only that, he hadn't heard even a _hint_ of what was going on- and just when his interest had been piqued.

"Bakura!"

Both angels swivelled their heads to see a familiar (to Bakura at least) set of blue wings.

"What is it Dartz?"

"The Archangel wants to speak to you about the situation with the child."

"Very well." Bakura said and left the tent, Malik shaking his head bewilderedly behind him.

**---------------------------------------------**

The two entered the rooms of the Archangel, who gave both of them brief nods of acknowledgement before diving right into conversation.

"The council has voted unanimously."

"Took them long enough..." Bakura muttered under his breath.

"And they have decided that the child Yami Atemu is to be re-assigned a Guardian."

"What about the demon situation? Have they found out why the boy was approached by demons? Or why his previous Guardian disappeared?"

Ignoring his questions, the Archangel continued. "They have chosen _you_ for this job, Bakura."

His jaw dropped. Him? The most reluctant angel in the entirety of Heaven? A _**Guardian**_?

"What the _hell_?"

"Captain Akefia Bakura! We do not speak that way here, thank you!"

"I apologise." he said smoothly, mind racing.

"From now on you will be pulled from battle. Young Malik can take over your place as Captain of the Fifth Battalion and you will come and live in the Upper Quarter here in Heaven."

"But what if I'm needed?" questioned the white-haired man.

"Don't worry- the Abyss warriors will be fine."

"I meant by the child. Is it allowed to go and see him?" he clarified with a sinking stomach. He knew what her answer was likely to be- but he still thought it merited a check anyway.

"You know the rules- we do not consort actively with mortals. You are _not _to go down there." she said sharply, leaning forward in her wooden chair, dark blue eyes piercing.

Refusing to allow this angel to see his annoyed anger, Bakura presented her with one of his impossible to read blank masks.

"Very well then."

She nodded, giving a warily relieved smile. "You may leave."

Bakura rose from the narrow-backed chair made especially to suit winged individuals and gave the Archangel a shallow bow from the waist.

"Archangel, Dartz." he said by way of farewell and left.

**---------------------------------------------**

Time passed in the Divine Realm of Heaven and Bakura had finally begun to settle into the unfamiliar lifestyle of peace. He did not spend nearly as much time with Malik as he once had- in fact he spent barely any time with Malik anymore, what with Malik being busy in the front line.

Nowadays he spent time with one or two of the few angels that didn't drive him completely up the wall with their 'holier-than-thou' attitude (especially annoying in an angel) - either Dartz or a younger angel who lived in the Upper Quarter as well named Ryou.

Bakura had the suspicion that the Archangel had asked for reports on him, to check that he hadn't gone rushing down to the Mortal Realm to check on his charge.

Of course, many of these ill-thought out spy-schemes met with an immovable block- save one or two which carried only… certain information back to their master.

The white-winged angel actually _welcomed_ these attempts to spy on his movements in a way- anything to keep his mind away from those worrisome images his mind kept inventing and throwing before him as he attempted to sleep.

His condition continued to decline as time went on- he slept very little due to these nightmares ate less (because he tended to forget to eat because he was that stressed) and he had become practically a winged skeleton.

**---------------------------------------------**

"Bakura that is the last straw!"

"What?" asked the bewildered angel.

"'What?' he says!" exclaimed Ryou, throwing up his hands. "This has got to stop, Bakura. When was the last time you slept? The bags under your eyes could be used to transport supplies to the Abyss!"

"Or the last time you ate, for that matter." added Dartz mildly.

Bakura thought. "I think I ate on… that… time on that day… And as for sleep, I'm pretty sure I slept for an hour or so last Tuesday…"

The white-winged angel shrank as Ryou told him off. "You _haven't_ slept, full stop! I'm willing to bet my wings that you haven't slept since you arrived here! And if you've eaten even one meal in the past moon, I'll eat my sword! You look worse than the Devil's experiment with undead zombies! His _**prototype**_ experiment."

Bakura winced at that last statement. He couldn't look _that_ bad. Could he? Those prototypes were widely agreed to be the most disgusting waste of magical energies in recorded history! _Angelic_ recorded history.

"Ryou's exaggerating a tad, but you_ do_ look terrible. Why aren't you sleeping?" asked Dartz kindly.

Bakura's eyes turned grim. "I, more than anyone know what _humans_ are capable of. And if humans are capable of such deeds, I can only _imagine_ what demons- _freed, __**shape-shifting**_ demons are capable of."

"As his Guardian, you would _know_ if harm befell Atemu, Bakura."

"Not until too late. And I would be unable to do anything anyway- the Archangel has me watched, remember."

Dartz sighed. Bakura was impossible to reason with when he had his mind set on a theory. "I will try and find some valerian for you. If you add some to your tea before bed you should have a dreamless sleep."

"And Bakura, I will _spoon-feed_ you if I must. Wasting yourself away will do Atemu no favours if trouble _does_ befall him." Ryou said, skilfully prodding Bakura's sense of duty to life.

Bakura sighed. "You are right."

"Let's go find something to eat." Ryou said, pulling his white winged friend into the air, his own pale green wings fluttering.

"Fine then. But you most certainly will _not_ be spoon-feeding me as though I were a baby."

"Would I _dare_? Besides, knowing you, you'd bite the spoon in half." he said dryly.

**---------------------------------------------**

The boy known as Yami Atemu had been asking his aunt the same question everyday for several years since the time in the park; "Where's Kura? Can I see him today?" And he would always receive the same answer; "Not today sweetie- but I'm sure Bakura will come and see you soon."

He'd even threaded the small feather and cross onto a piece of strong cord he'd found and he had worn it until his aunt noticed, and had presented him with a thinner gold chain from her jewellery box to suspend the precious items.

Seto had never understood what his cousin found so special about that necklace- it was just a feather and a cross.

Even if sometimes, just _sometimes_ the feather seemed to glow slightly with an ethereal luminescence that was paler than sunlight and purer than moonlight.

But that was okay, because Yami Atemu (or Atemu as he preferred it to be shortened to) didn't need for him to _understand_. It was enough that Seto refused to allow the other children to tease his smaller cousin for wearing a _necklace_, and even helped him manage the catch on the chain when he needed help.

Atemu was six when he stopped asking where Kura was.

**---------------------------------------------**

It was a cold winter's day when it happened. Seto was ten, his brother Mokuba five, and Atemu was nine. They were on their way back home (from what, Atemu never remembered.) and suddenly there was another car- and they were sliding on the treacherous winter road.

The last thing he remembered seeing was his aunt clutching the long white feather Kura had given her, and she was mumbling softly; "Please, come and help them… the children… please… tenshi help… the children…" The feather glowed brightly, becoming a nimbus of white light and Atemu knew no more.

Upon waking in the hospital his first words were; "Why didn't Kura help us?"

**---------------------------------------------**

Bakura had been playing chess with Ryou when he felt the summons. He leapt up from the table and raced for the door.

"Bakura, _wait_!" called Ryou, grabbing his forearm. Said angel whirled around, fury written across his catlike features; a very dangerous light in his red eyes turned them even more of a bloodlike hue than usual, giving him more of a demonic look than an angelic one.

"I _**need**_ to go." he said, voice like silk on steel.

"I never said you couldn't." his close to identical friend said calmly. "I believe that I said _wait._ Give me a minute to collect my sword. I also believe that Dartz will also wish to accompany us."

The fury left his face, but the fey fire in his eyes stayed.

**---------------------------------------------**

Not two minutes later the three tenshi were furiously beating their wings, using glamour to avoid sight.

"Where did the call come from, Bakura?" asked Dartz (whom had joined them a brief time after Ryou had finished speaking.)

"Down here." Bakura said, spiralling down toward the ground even as he spoke.

What met their eyes was nothing short of horrific. The other car had shoved their own into a tree, turning it into not much more than a lump of scrap metal.

Atemu's aunt lay slumped against a tree, and it was obvious she was mortally wounded. His uncle was limp across the steering wheel, face bloody where it had collided with the glass windscreen.

Somehow Atemu and Seto had been hurled clear from the carnage.

Ryou immediately set to work slicing the twisted hunk of metal that had once been a door from the backseat of the car and he reached into the death-trap and carefully extricated young Mokuba, deft hands checking for broken bones.

Dartz went straight for the limp form of Seto, checking for a pulse. Several ribs were broken, and it was likely that the boy's arm was also broken, judging from the awkward angle it was bent at. A thin trickle of blood snaked down the prone boy's cheek, seeping from a cut above his eyebrow obviously gained from his collision with the road when he'd been hurled free of the wreckage.

Needless to say, Bakura made a direct beeline for Atemu.

"Atemu?" he asked, touching the boy's cheek. No response. With growing dread he reached two slender fingers to the boy's neck and waited expectantly for a pulse, or even the small movement of the throat that would have indicated he was still breathing.

None came.

"Dartz, Ryou! He's not _breathing_!" he yelled.

"Oh God! Bakura, I'm so sorry." gasped Ryou.

"Check again Bakura." ordered Dartz. "Maybe you missed…"  
"What do I have to say to get it into your head Dartz? He is _**not breathing**_ and his heart's not beating. He's _**dead**_ damn it! I was too late!" he yelled at the aqua haired angel.

Angrily he rubbed a hand across his face, dashing away the tears that threatened to fall. He'd failed. He was the boy's Guardian, and he was supposed to protect him. And the boy had _trusted_ him to be there for him.

He let out a growl and punched the ground, causing it to shake slightly. Then he remembered something from the time on the battlefield. While immortal, angels could still be injured, but they could also _heal_. He was an angel- and if the boy's soul had not yet moved on he could heal his body. But- the Archangel had him watched. He was already bound to be punished as it was but for this…

He looked back down at the small boy. A wayward breeze blew snowflakes into his hair, and tossed a lock of golden hair over the boy's dark-skinned features.

As Bakura softly brushed the errant hair and snow from his charge's face he knew he didn't care about punishment. He'd already made his decision.

Nodding to himself he stood, brushing snow from his person before addressing the group at large.

"You should both move further away. Take those two- leave the adults, there's nothing we can do for them now. Take them to a healer or something."

"Why? What are you planning Bakura?" asked Ryou suspiciously.

"I can't just leave him this way. It was not his time."

"Bakura…"

"He only died because I couldn't be here to protect him. You can't tell me demons had nothing to do with this."

"Bakura, it must have been God's will that the child died- you can't go against Him like that!" objected Ryou. Dartz (wisely) stayed out of the quarrel, knowing Bakura well enough to know that Bakura would do what he wanted, no matter what he or Ryou had to say about it.

"_God's will be damned!_" Bakura roared. "_I am __**not**__ letting this child die!_"

"You come close to blasphemy Bakura."

"You know what, I really couldn't care less." the white-winged angel retorted, blood-red eyes flashing. "Why shouldn't I tell it like it is? You and Dartz either help me or get the hell out of my way."

"You know we can't help you Bakura." started Ryou, sighing. "But we won't get in your way."

Bakura gave him a grateful look of acceptance. "I didn't expect you to want to face the punishment for it."

So Ryou and Dartz collected the other children and left the sad scene behind.

**---------------------------------------------**

"So how do I do this." he muttered. He had never had the need to heal someone back on the battlefield, because no-one had been injured in his vicinity (likely due to the fact that he felt it his duty to return those under his command to their tents relatively unscathed)

He had seen it done often enough though, enough to know that you had to find the fatal injury to heal it.

Okay, so where was the injury that had killed his Atemu… Wait- _his_ Atemu? The child was his _charge_. Not his. He shook his head. Carefully he ran his hands over Atemu's neck and thoracic cavity to check for perhaps a broken neck, or even a broken rib that could have punctured a lung. But he found nothing.

He frowned. There was not a mark on him! He seemed just fine- except for the fact that he was dead.

"His heart was stopped." came a gravelly voice from behind him. He turned, and saw the signature black tattered wings of a Fallen one- and this one had sandy gold hair.

"And you came to know this… _how_?" asked Bakura suspiciously.

"Please." scoffed Marik. "You must be really upset over him to not smell the stench of demons all over this place."

"As helpful as that statement was, I'd like you to kindly shut up while I figure out how to re-start his heart. Thank you."

The dark angel put his hands to his heart with a gasp. "What's this? Bakura's going to _resurrect_ a dead mortal and break his precious rules?" he mocked.

"Shut _up_ Marik!" Bakura hissed through gritted teeth.

"You don't even know the rudimentary basics of the healing arts do you?" Marik asked in a more sober tone.

"I never needed to." the white-haired angel snapped.

He felt a hand clap his shoulder. "I don't have the ability since I fell, but I _**do**_ remember how it's done. We'd best start before his soul drifts away."

"You mean _you're_ going to help me?" asked Bakura disbelievingly.

"There won't be anything to help you_ with_ in a minute."

"Fine, now tell me how to make this stupid healing power work."

"Place your hands just above the injury- in this case above his heart should suffice." reeled off the black-winged man. "Concentrate on pulling your life-force into your hands."

Bakura knelt beside Atemu and held his hands over the boy's still chest, closing his eyes. He focused and he felt… something race towards his hands. Unbeknownst to the angel, his hands were glowing a light shade of blue.

"Now try and send it at… well the best way to explain it is a 'blank-spot' per se in the injured party." Marik explained.

Bakura didn't bother acknowledging the other winged male, instead following the instructions and pushing the strange sensation coalescing in his hands into the 'blank-spot' in the unmoving child lying prone on the ground.

When he sensed the 'blankness' had gone he stopped and opened his eyes.

Marik had disappeared, leaving Bakura alone with Atemu in the clearing.

He hesitantly reached his shaking fingertips to Atemu's neck. There- a faint flutter! But was he breathing also?

Bakura leant in, and felt a light puff of warm air issue from the boy's mouth- sweet with a light tinge of vanilla.

He breathed a sigh of relief as he sat up. Then he heard it- a loud wailing sound. Which meant the mortals had finally sent assistance. He would have to leave the boy to the care of his own kind now.

Bakura brushed another of the boy's wild gold bangs from his face before smiling softly to himself.

"Goodbye for now Atemu. Stay safe." he told the boy. Standing, the angel brushed yet more snowflakes from his clothing and once more took to the skies.

**---------------------------------------------**

"Who's Kura?" asked the twenty-something nurse looking after the nine-year old Atemu after he woke up.

"Don't mind that right now, Kimi. Yami Atemu isn't it?" The boy nodded. "Yami, you must have someone up there who really likes you. By all laws of Physics, you should be so much mincemeat!"

"Forget that, he's got a guardian angel hovering over him." the nurse muttered.

Atemu gave a sad smile. If that were true, Bakura would have come to save him, and his family would be okay. He was rather lucky, in his opinion that Bakura was not his 'guardian angel' or he'd be dead.

**---------------------------------------------**

_Hiss CRACK_

_Hiss CRACK_

_Hiss CRACK_

_Hiss __**CRACK**_

Bakura winced at that last one, half biting his own tongue off in a doggedly determined effort to ignore the stinging of the metal tipped whip tearing off strips of his skin between his wings and on his lower back.

He'd endured worse, and he'd be damned if he'd scream for their sick amusement.

Sure, they were angels. But angels who were big on _severe_ punishments.

**---------------------------------------------**

"_For the crimes of going against the Humanity Treaty and wilfully setting fort on mortal ground, for interfering with the course of a mortal life, and most heinous of all, for ignoring God's will and misusing your angelic power of healing to resurrect an already dead mortal, you are sentenced to spend seven years in the Hall of Punishment. Do you have anything to say to the Archangel Melanie, Bakura?" droned the monotonous voice of the angel reading the proclamation of his so called 'crimes' and his intended punishment._

"_Except that she's a heartless bitch who won't allow me to do my job properly and _protect_ the boy in the first place? Only that Atemu was killed using _**demonic power**_. Aside from that, I've nothing to say to her."_

_Archangel Melanie waved a hand wearily and Bakura was hurled to his feet and they began to pull him from the room, Bakura holding his head high. More than a few faces seemed troubled, as he'd known they would. He paused just before the exit._

"_Goodbye Malik, Ryou. Dartz." he nodded, before sweeping grandly from the room as though headed for a ball rather than an angelic form of torture._

**---------------------------------------------**

'Definitely big on punishment...' he thought hazily as they brought out the spiked cat 'o' nine tails. This was going to hurt even worse, because this time there was no way they'd miss his wings…

**---------------------------------------------**

"Oh my? Whatever is a _heaven-bound_ angel doing in our midst?"

"I reconsidered your offer."

"And?"

"I have no choice but to accept."

"You are sure?"

The angel paused, remembering a sweet vanilla scent. "I can do nothing else."

* * *

Haha! Go ahead- just _guess_ who that last one was.

A cat 'o' nine tails is a whip with... well, nine tails. This one's spiky, so does anyone else feel sorry for Bakura? Those wings are the most sensitive part of his body, and he's got nine spiky whips attacking them... . Man I'm nasty!

Anyways, look for chapter three sometime next week, k? Hope you all liked!! Please review- they make me one happy authoress!!

Smile:D

Ireina


	3. Tears of Blood

**When Angels Cry 3- Tears of Blood  
**

* * *

Disclaimer: Yu-Gi-Oh and all its characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi. I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement. The only thing I own is the AU and the angel legends 

**---------------------------------------------**

Yaoi/shonen-ai. If you don't like, please don't read. Flames will be extinguished with great prejudice due to the fact that it is bushfire season and I hate bushfires. Many Australians do.

**---------------------------------------------**

Rated for bloody descriptions of battle and later limes. (You know I can't resist!)

And if my beta has her way, probably a lemon or two as well... --;

This chapter (as usual!) is dedicated to all the people who've reviewed the last chapter!

Nusku

Cavialover

Minasantaria

Naruto101Lov

YumiStar

inuyashagirl818- Yes, I am GOING to make it all better- in my own good time! And yes, you did spell beta wrong... --;

lynnwoo

Shadow Cat17

**---------------------------------------------**

I'm terribly glad that people seem to like this, and I hope you all continue reading this! In return for people putting up with my space-case brain regarding updating, this chapter is 5083 words long (not counting disclaimer, dedications etc.) And I'm now considering side pairings...

How do people feel about Bronzeshipping? There're some hints of that one in here, but does anyone have a preference for who I put Dartz and Ryou with? I have several ideas, and I'll probably end up going with them, but I WILL take your input on board.

And... just so's you know... you can pick a pairing with Yugi in it- he hasn't dropped off the face of this AU.

Hope you all like!

Smile!

Ireina

* * *

Bakura woke up, sitting with a wince. Was it over? How much time had passed since the last time? What would they do to him today? 

He heard footsteps and fought back the feeling of dread that rose like bile in his throat. They may have been angels, but they had no imagination for this sort of thing, unlike the humans who had been the last to do this to him. (Luckily…)

The door opened and a sandy-blonde male entered the room, a faintly steaming bowl of slightly greenish liquid in one hand, rags in the other. It was a wonder he'd even been able to open the door with all that in his hand. Bakura gave an inaudible sigh of relief.

"How's your back?" Marik asked gruffly, not moving from the doorway.

"Painful." admitted the other.

"It is to be expected. And… your wings?" Marik inquired, placing the bowl on the side-table next to the bed.

Bakura looked behind him tentatively. The feathered limbs were matted with dried blood, and because of poor quality of diet they were tattered where feathers had fallen out. The muscles had also begun to waste away, his body using the proteins to try and keep the rest of him alive, and the once powerful wings that had proudly carried him in flight he knew would not carry his weight were he to try and use them now.

"As you know, none of us can heal you. We do not have that power anymore. But we can use medicines to help your body heal itself." Marik said quietly, noting Bakura's distress at the state of his poor wings.

Bakura nodded listlessly and lay back onto his stomach as he had been while asleep.

The fallen angel began to bathe the left wing, gently washing the dried redness from the feathered limb. As he did that, there was a brief knock and a winged man the mirror image of the one tending Bakura strode in like a whirlwind.

"Oh my God Bakura! What did they _do_ to you?" he exclaimed, clapping a dark hand to his mouth in shock.

"Who in_hell_ are you? And _why_ are you here, tenshi?" growled Marik suspiciously.

"Shut up, _outcast_. Bakura, I'm here to take you back."

"Where to?" demanded a very irate ebony-winged angel. "Heaven? Those bastards were the ones that did this to him you idiot!"

"… Of course not Heaven."

"Where then? Why can't he just stay here? He's been treated better _here_ than he ever was in Heaven."

The two angels faced off across the room, so alike, yet so different, fists clenched.

"Would you two _stop_ it! For God's sake, Bakura does _not_ need his only allies to fight each other." ordered an irritated sounding Dartz, who entered the room followed swiftly by Ryou, whom took over Marik's forgotten task of cleaning the dried blood from his wings.

"I wish I could heal you, but the Archangel laid a _geas_ on us that binds all healing magic in your presence." Ryou lamented, squeezing the cloth. The bowl ran red.

Bakura, (whom had lifelessly been watching the whole thing, mildly irritated that they were talking about him as though he was not there) merely said: "It's fine." expressionlessly.

Dartz stepped forward and taking a second rag, proceeded to clean Bakura's second wing.

The two paused in their arduous task when they heard Marik comment; "For a tenshi, you're not as weak as I would have expected." approvingly.

Apprehensively Dartz and Ryou turned their heads to see a dark purple aura rising and shifting around Marik and a silvery lavender aura of equal proportions surrounding Malik.

"You're not so bad either- for a Fallen one." countered the tawny-winged male, lavender eyes glittering.

**---------------------------------------------**

"Remind me again why I'm carrying you around on my back?" asked Marik.

"Because my wings haven't recovered enough yet, and I need to apply for this job."

"And the point of that would be…"

"None of your business."

**---------------------------------------------**

"Class, today we have a new student joining us. This is Yami Takimura. Yami, would you like to introduce yourself?" said the principal, before pushing someone forward and leaving.

The students looked up to see a young man with tricoloured hair, red eyes and whom appeared to be wearing rather a log of black- and studded accessories.

Around his neck hung an old fashioned gold cross which bore a ruby in its centre with what appeared to be small chips of diamond around it. The design seemed almost Gothic in its age. As if that wasn't strange enough, beside the cross hung a single small, white feather.

"Very well. I am Yami Atemu. I would prefer you did not have anything to do with me. People who do tend to have… bad luck one might say. I am sixteen and I was adopted. Is that enough, sensei?" he said in a cold and emotionless voice.

Shakily the teacher nodded. "There is a space behind Kaiba-kun. That will be your place, Takimura-kun." she explained nervously.

The teenager's eerie red eyes stared at her fro a minute or so, and back to the spare seat before silently stalking between the rows of other children and slipping into the indicated space behind the brunette. She shivered, though she was not cold. Those red eyes were too old to belong to a sixteen year old teenage boy.

**---------------------------------------------**

Lunch came, and Atemu took his lunch outside the classroom and sat under the maple tree that stood in the centre of an abandoned courtyard (the other students were either sill eating, or out playing some form of sport.)

"You still wear that stupid necklace." sneered a voice.

"And you're still a close-minded idiot." Atemu calmly retorted, unwrapping a riceball. "Now make like the wind and _blow_, Jounouchi."

"Y'know, I don't think I _will._ You see Yami, your cousin's not here to save you. So I was thinking…"

Atemu cut him off. "Not your best talent." There was a loud crack and a fist made contact with his face and Atemu lifted delicate fingertips to the blood trickling from the corner of his mouth. "You shouldn't have done that." he said softly, staring at the red liquid fascinatedly.

"As I said before I was so _rudely_ interrupted… I was _thinking_ I ought to pay you back for everything you've done."

"And just _what _would that be?"

"Well… everything. But mainly just for existing." sniggered the blonde boy, failing to notice that the voice was not that of the teenager in front of him.

A white hand shot out and grabbed Jounouchi by the ear, tugging him back from Atemu, whose ruby eyes were wide in surprise.

"The last time I saw you do that, I believe I warned you what would happen. This is your _last_ warning. Dartz isn't here to stop me snapping your neck. Now get out of my sight." came a cold voice.

As the blonde boy scampered off, rubbing his ear and muttering under his breath, Bakura's brown-red eyes caught Atemu's, softening slightly as they alighted on the boy. "Hello Atemu." he said softly, voice gentle and loaded with some form of emotion that neither could quite identify.

"_Don't call me that!_" Atemu hissed at him, anger rising at Bakura even _thinking_ he could just talk to him as though he hadn't abandoned him for thirteen years. "No-one is allowed to call me by that name." The already paler than usual Bakura went even whiter and he had an expression on his face as though he'd been slapped. "Especially not _you_." he finished venomously.

An expression of sadness came over the angel and he lifted a hand as though he was going to caress the teen's cheek, but dropped it before he could make contact. "What happened to you? You are not the boy I remember."

"No, I guess I'm not, am I? Well I was _bound_ to change in _**thirteen years**_, Bakura."

"Not like this. Your eyes are too bitter to be a child's."

"Becoming an orphan, then losing the _rest_ of your family, save your cousins, then being _separated_ from even them for seven years'll do that to you." snapped Atemu, eyes snapping in anger.

"None of which is my fault, Atemu."

"I _said_ don't call me that!" yelled said boy, clenching his fists at his sides. "You weren't there when I needed you! You promised you'd see me again and you _left_ for thirteen years! Not even a single _word _of communication did I get from you! Explain _that_, Bakura!"

A pained grimace crossed catlike features and Bakura closed his eyes wearily. "I can't." he whispered, and the words tore at him. He longed to tell him everything- what the laws stated, how he'd broken them to save the boy… How he'd been punished for seven years as a consequence. But his pride refused to allow him to admit he'd cared enough _to_ break the laws, let alone get himself caught. Besides which, the boy _had_ to see the marks on his wings- even shielded in glamour as they were.

"I _**never**_ want you to come near me again. Ever. Do you hear me?! Never again." Atemu spat.

The pale man turned his back, shoulders slumped slightly, long white mane cascading to his hips now.

Later, Atemu would wonder vaguely where his wings were- and why the angel was wearing a shirt with red designs.

**---------------------------------------------**

"Are you going to give up on the spoilt brat now?" Marik enquired.

"_That_ is the child you went through seven years of what amounts to torture, albeit angelic torture for reviving? Damned ungrateful if you ask me." Malik added disgustedly.

"Where'd you come from Malik?"

"Recon. Thought I'd pay a visit."

Bakura turned dull eyes to Malik, then back to Marik. "To me or him?"

At this perfectly serious question Marik cracked up laughing and Malik did also, though a tinge of pink crept up his cheekbones.

"I fail to see what's so damn funny. I was merely asking a question."

"So? Are you going to take the hint and leave the brat alone?" Marik repeated after he'd finally managed to control his laughing. "I mean, you went through seven years of agony and for what? This child basically tells you to fuck off…"

"Marik!"

"Malik my dear, I'm a _fallen_ angel- I can say 'fuck' as much as I damn well please. Fuck, fuck, fuck. See? No lightning bolt from God or anything." the dark angel smirked, winking roguishly. "… and_ you_, Bakura, you can't tell me you still want to protect him. Not after that."

Bakura knew Marik was right- he should just do as Atemu said and never see the boy again. But the fact remained that something was going down in Heaven, and Atemu was the target. _Someone_ had to protect him. Not to mention that more demons had, according to Dartz escaped through the Gates to Earth.

Not to mention he found he _really_ didn't like the idea of _never_ seeing Atemu again…

"I have to stay Marik. The demons…" Bakura said in a voice that was tired, and defeated.

"Don't come crying to me everytime the brat upsets you then." warned the fallen angel irritably.

**---------------------------------------------**

Atemu had not seen Bakura for a week, and he thought that maybe the angel had taken him at his word. He had been rather angry and he regretted letting it get the best of him…

He ignored the guilt he felt everytime he remembered the way the angel had gone even whiter and had looked as though Atemu had slapped him across the face. He especially hated it when he remembered the not completely disguised dejected air of hurt with which Bakura had walked away into the school.

'_I have to stop thinking like this. He deserved __**everything**__ I said. He's an angel, he could've saved Aunt and Uncle. But he didn't…'_ He mentally slapped himself when he saw the time.

"Get moving!" he told himself, clasping the gold necklace around his neck from sheer force of habit as he ran through the door.

**---------------------------------------------**

He slid through the door of his History classroom fifteen minutes late and pulling at the collar of his standard issue school jacket (he'd brought the uniform the second day)

"I'm sorry I'm late, sensei!" he gasped, looking up at the clock with uneven breathing from running in a futile attempt not to be late.

"It is fine, Takimura-kun. Please, take your seat." he heard a familiar voice smoothly tell him.

He looked at the occupant of the teacher's desk, and he saw a man sitting calmly on the narrow-backed chair with his legs crossed, apparently completely at ease with his position.

"What the hell are _you _doing here?" demanded Atemu, staring at the familiar mane of silver-white hair framing a pale, angular face with slightly slanted catlike russet-brown eyes.

Bakura raised an eyebrow.

"I am teaching. History I believe. Please take your seat or take a detention slip."

"How can_you_ be teaching?"

"I applied for the job like most people and I got it. Now please sit down and show proper respect due a teacher."

"_But!_"

Bakura lifted a hand, and a look somewhere between anger and… _pain_? crossed his face before he said; "See me after class Takimura-kun." with quiet authority.

Atemu reluctantly obeyed, a look of fury on his face as he stormed to an empty desk as far from the front of the classroom as possible so as to be nowhere near the angel.

**---------------------------------------------**

The class progressed, and even Atemu had to admit the angel knew his stuff. The only thing that interrupted the lesson was one of the children throwing a paper ball at Bakura's back. It appeared to hit Bakura where his right shoulder-blade appeared to be (where Atemu knew there to be a furled wing) and he let out a cry of pain.

He whirled around, face livid. "If whoever threw that does it _again_…" he threatened. "…not even your Guardian angel will be able to save you."

"But _sensei_, it barely hit you." Atemu pointed out. Even if Bakura's wings _were_ sensitive, such a light tap from a _paper ball_ of all things couldn't have caused _that _much pain.

"Atemu-you-are-already-staying-after-class-do-you-really-want-to-try-for-detention?" the white-haired angel-slash-teacher said in one breath through gritted teeth.

The hot,_young_ new teacher's use of the just as hot new kid's _**first**_ name without even a –kun or –chan had started a huge wave of rumours whispering about how familiar they must be for him to call him by his first name and skip the honorific of even the closest friendship._(1.)_

Speculation ran rife throughout the class as to exactly _what_ their relationship was…

**---------------------------------------------**

The class ended and Atemu collected his books and bag and went to the board at the front of the classroom, upon which Bakura currently was leaning his head on his arm.

Atemu frowned. He may have been angry at the angel, but by nature he was not a callous person- and he did not like people to be hurting needlessly, even if he was angry with them.

"Are you… all right, Bakura-sensei?" he asked cautiously, placing his books on the desk and touching Bakura's back softly in a gesture meant to comfort to an unexpected wince and a small escaped hiss. Atemu felt something warm and sticky on his fingers and pulled his hand from Bakura's back. He looked at his hand, and saw red tainting his fingers where they'd rested on the other male's back.

It would seem that the angel had _blood_ leaking through his shirt! With a feeling of dread, Atemu realised exactly what those red designs on Bakura's shirt had been last week.

Bakura had had enough of this. That was the last straw. Not only did Atemu show complete lack of regard for the hell he'd gone through, now he was purposely applying pressure to the obviously badly injured wing that the 'paper ball' had hit. There was glamour on his wings, but he _knew_ the boy could see through his glamour. And he_still_ did it. Pain was coursing through the winged man, and it wasn't just from the injuries on his back and wings.

Bakura turned and grabbed his wrist, pain clearly written on his features. "Don't. Don't you _dare_ touch my wings again."

**---------------------------------------------**

"Show me your wings Bakura." demanded Atemu, ignoring the angel's ire. "Show me why there's blood on my fingers."

"No. Why would you care about an oath-breaker you '_**never **_want to come near you again.' anyway?" snapped Bakura, hurt and pain heavily laced through his tone. It was Atemu's turn to look stricken. "I'm only still here so I can watch for demons." Bakura continued. "Or believe me, I'd be nowhere near _you_. After your performance after those _**seven years**_…" He shook his head contemptively, tightening his grip on Atemu's slender wrist. "Let's just say that only the demons could keep me here after that."

"Demons?" Atemu asked, bravely ignoring the pain originating from his wrist.

"Thank you, here is your sign." _(2.)_

"What?"

"Go ask Kaiba. And for another thing, you _will_ show me proper respect. I am your teacher, and I will be treated like it. I also ask that you stay away from me as much as possible. I can't stand to see you any more- unless I have to." the angel replied coldly.

Atemu widened his eyes. "…fine." he said reluctantly. "At least tell me why you're bleeding though. And get your back bandaged too."

Bakura laughed derisively. "It _is_ bandaged." and with that parting comment, the hurt and angry angel swept from the room.

**---------------------------------------------**

Bakura just made it out into the hallways before his already hazy vision swam, before plunging into complete darkness.

Atemu hadn't seen the 'child' put a small stone into the middle of the paper ball before he had hurled it point blank at Bakura's injured wing.

**---------------------------------------------**

"It is as you informed us, tenshi. Our agent confirms that his wounds are not yet healed- and he returned straight back to the boy."

"Good… just watch them for now. Do not cause harm to the child _yet_- before we capture our enemy's king, we must first destroy the knights guarding him." ordered a voice, picking up a white chess piece- a winged horse rearing. "Study Marik. The fallen one has aided Bakura in the past. Let us find what he treasures most- and then _**destroy**_ it." they whispered, turning the exquisitely crafted white stone piece in their hand before crushing it to dust.

**---------------------------------------------**

"Bakura?! Kura! Please, wake up! Are you ok?" A hand gently brushed his feverish brow and he smelt vanilla as he woke. He was lucid enough to remember that this person shouldn't know he was hurting- shouldn't know he wasn't as strong as he'd pretended to be.

"No… I'm… fine…" he said, reaching blindly for the wall as he sat up.

"You fucking well are _not!_" the voice belonging to the hand exclaimed, looping Bakura's arm around his shoulders. "Let's get you to the nurse."

That would be bad, he thought foggily. But _why_ again? Bakura felt a jolt of pain and looked around to see he had wings. They appeared to be badly injured- and… was that one _festering_?

'_Oh yes, that's why. I don't want them to know I'm…'_ he thought, before losing track of his train of thought. There was someone who would help… someone… and he remembered a black-winged man. What was his name again? His thoughts kept coming just within reach, before dancing away, just out of reach… It was really annoying him too…

Marik! He seized onto that thought before it could float away.

"No… my wings… call Marik."

"Who's Marik and how do I contact him?"

Bakura was so tired… so sleepy… And the body of the person supporting him was soft, yet firm and warm- and sending delicious currents of warm crackling into him every place their body touched his. His eyelids fluttered.

"No, _no_, Bakura, stay _awake_!" the voice told him, shifting their grip enough to tap Bakura gently on the cheek. He _wanted_ to do as the voice told him; they _seemed_ to care about him… But no, they didn't, there was a reason, but he just couldn't remember what…

"Awake… but… so tired… _**hurts**_…" he said, trying to tell the voice that he _was _trying, but that he was having trouble doing what it asked.

"Marik, where do I find _Marik_, Bakura?"

He thought a minute. He vaguely remembered someone who had that name. But why were they asking _him_ where he was?

"Marik?..."

"Yes, Marik. Where is his _phone number_, Bakura?"

Ah, a number. There was a piece of paper with numbers on it… Lots of them too, but where did he put it? He thought. Surely it would be in one of his pockets… let the voice try and find it. He was too tired to remember- and his back and wings _hurt_. There was a reason for that too, but it was too much to try and remember at that moment…

"Pocket… number… Sleep… need to… sleep." he said, closing his tired eyes.

"Don't sleep Bakura!" He grumbled slightly, but complied. He felt the wall against his back, and the voice released him to lean on it, to which he protested- the pressure on his back and wings sent waves of pain through him. And he missed the comforting presence of the voice's arms around him and supporting him, even if there was a reason he shouldn't miss it…

He felt hands slipping into the pocket of his shirt and the pockets on his jacket before the voice groaned. "Of _course_, it _would_ have to be in his trouser pockets." before he felt hands slip into the pockets at his waist. At that he squirmed, the voice's hands shouldn't be that close to his hips… it wasn't allowed…

The voice apparently found the paper with all those numbers on it, because it said;

"Stay quiet for a minute while I call this Marik person." Bakura nodded sleepily in assent.

Maybe while the voice was busy he could get some sleep…

**---------------------------------------------**

Atemu retrieved his mobile phone from the depths of his carry bag and quickly dialled the mobile number on the scrap of paper he'd found in Bakura's left hip pocket, still flushed pink at how close he'd had to put his hand to… well…

"Hello? What is it, Bakura?" asked a gravelly voice gruffly.

"This isn't Bakura, I'm Yami Atemu. Something's wrong with Bakura and he told me to get someone called Marik. This is the number he gave me."

The other male swore. "I'll be right there. Where are you?"

"Still at Domino High, in the History classroom."

There was the signature sound of someone hanging up the phone before Atemu closed his phone and shoved it into his pocket with the scrap of paper.

With no small difficulty, the smaller male hefted Bakura's non-assisting body up and tried to get the semi-lucid angel to stay awake and cooperate with him long enough to move into the classroom; (Which he managed- just.) with barely enough time to lock the door before the next class.

Atemu didn't know what to do- Bakura was clearly in pain and drifting in and out of well, sanity, and he had no clue how to help. He thought that perhaps it wouldn't be a good idea for him to let Bakura go to sleep- he might not wake up.

He saw the angel had taken advantage of his deep thought to close his eyes in sleep, and he jumped.

"Bakura, don't go to sleep!" he exclaimed, jostling the angel's shoulder carefully, mindful of his painful back and wings.

"Atemu?... hurts… want to _sleep_." the angel replied sleepily, sounding very confused.

"You mustn't sleep Bakura."

"… Why?"

Atemu thought about it for a minute. He may have been angry, but the fact remained that he was afraid that the angel would die.

"Because I don't want you not to wake up." he said quietly. He looked back to the angel's fine-boned face, beaded with sweat and caught russet-brown eyes, bright with fever but there was an awareness of what was going on now that had not been there before.

"Come here… Atemu." Bakura said, lifting a limp arm and beckoning to Atemu to join him on the floor.

The dark-skinned teen went back to Bakura and knelt beside him. A lock of hair was in the other male's eyes and Atemu automatically reached to brush it behind his ear.

"On… my desk… paper ball…" Ah, Bakura _was_ having a clear-thinking moment. That explained the newfound awareness in his fevered eyes.

He tilted his head to the side before retrieving said ball of paper, noting as he brought it back to Bakura that it was rather heavier than paper should have been.

He sat down and handed the thing to the white-haired angel who closed his eyes for a minute (to Atemu's alarm), before re-opening them and saying; "Open it."

Atemu raised an eyebrow before deciding to humour the request. In the centre was a round black stone. "He knew you were hurt…" he whispered, stunned.

"He didn't… was just…testing…"

Atemu cursed. He lifted Bakura so his left cheek was resting on Atemu's lap, face towards the door so as to relieve the pressure on his apparently sore back and wings.

"Why can't I…" Atemu started hesitantly, absently running his hand through the angel's hair as though to sooth him, much the way a mother would a sick child.

"What… Atemu?..."

He shook his head. "Nevermind." There was a companiable silence, one that the two had not shared since Atemu had been a child, and sheltered by Bakura. Atemu almost forgot that Bakura had left and broken promises, and Bakura just was grateful for the hand anchoring him to reality, even if he knew distantly through the haze of pain and fever that it would disappear when he was well.

**---------------------------------------------**

Then, the door shook, before somehow managing to silently burst open and it broke the spell-like quality of the moment. In the doorway stood a fairly tall man, just about the same height as Bakura with brownish skin, spiky sand-coloured hair and dark lilac eyes- and whom also bore two large, black, feathered wings.

"I _told_ you they weren't healed but _nooo_, let's ignore the one person who actually knows what they're talking about!" he grumbled, striding toward the two on the floor.

Atemu narrowed his eyes, shifting the injured angel closer to him. "Are you Marik?"

"No, I'm the tooth fairy! Can't you see my wings?" the other said, rolling his eyes. "Give him to me; I'll need to take him home to tend those cuts on his wings."

"_What_ cuts on his wings?" Atemu said sharply.

"Are you blind or something, child? How could you miss them? Fair enough, he's got a glamour covering them, but you could see through his glamour before, so why…" he trailed off, looking at the teen in horror. "You _can't_ see through it anymore can you?"

"Obviously not." Atemu bristled.

Marik gave him a disgusted look. "You really _are_ a little brat aren't you? Do you _know_ what those seven years were _like_ for him?"

"No. And I really don't care. And it was thirteen years ago he left, just to inform you- I'm only helping him now because I'm not so angry that I want him _dead_. But if he's fainting like this, it can't be long."

CRACK!

Atemu was left holding his cheek in surprise. Marik had backhanded him across the face, opening a small cut on his lip as he'd done so.

"If it were not for _you_ he wouldn't _be _in this situation!" hissed Marik angrily. "You ungrateful little son of a bitch. Now shut up and help me get him on my back." he ordered.

**---------------------------------------------**

Silently the dark-skinned teen did as he was asked, turning the black-winged man's angry words over in his head, analysing them. What had he_meant_ it was _his_ fault? Had Bakura had a reason for not returning sooner? And why was everyone focusing on the last seven years he'd been away?

Still- even if there _had_ been a reason- he could have helped, or at least come and _tried_ to help his aunt and uncle. And he hadn't. He shook his head. _'Right now I need to just get him onto Marik's back so he can be tended. I can wonder about all that stuff later.'_ he thought to himself.

**---------------------------------------------**

Carefully, so as not to cause further injury to Bakura the two tried to lift the semi-lucid male onto Marik's back, but for some reason he didn't seem to want to leave Atemu.

"Atemu… next… don't let… them…get him…" he said frantically. "Demons… he'll be… hurt…"

"I'll be just fine, Bakura. Let Marik take you home and tend those nasty cuts."

"No… demons! Can't let… hurt… guardian… Show… Marik… black… stone…" insisted the injured angel.

"Black stone? What black stone?" asked Marik sharply, giving Atemu a _Look_.

Silently Atemu handed him the stone that had been in the centre of the paper ball.

"They threw this at his injured wing- I think they knew or at least suspected he was injured. He only started being like this a few minutes after they managed to hit him with it." Atemu told the dark-winged angel.

Marik looked at the stone in grim realisation. "Oh they would've had their suspicions all right to risk throwing something like _that_away." he said.

"What is it?"

"Part of the crystallized Tears of Blood."

"What?"

"Tear-shaped droplets of blood from the crucifixion. The demons stole some of them, and Lucifer himself used dark magic to make them into artefacts of great evil, tainting them from holy and pure objects of healing and salvation into objects of disease and madness. To risk throwing this at him to incapacitate him indicates that there are games afoot- and these guys don't plan on losing. But _what_ they'd want with _you_ is beyond me…" he mused to himself as he trailed off.

"Me?!" Atemu exclaimed in shock. Marik seemed to realise he'd said more than he probably should've and shook his head.

"Nevermind. If it'll keep him quiet, I guess I'll just have to bring you along with me."

"_**What**_?!"

"Come on then, haven't got all day you know."

* * *

Ok, explanations! 

(1.)- In Japanese culture, even close friends use the more familliar forms of honorifics- -chan or -kun. To use someone's first name indicates a close relationship, and first-name basis in their language is usually a sign of lovers.

(2.)"Thank you, here is your sign." - This is a thing that inuyashagirl818 will get- she's the one that started it. She sent me an e-mail that explained how stupid people should be given signs so you don't trust them with anything important. So basically, Bakura's calling Atemu stupid in a roundabout manner XD

Please forgive me for the late publication! Hope you all stick around for chapter four! Oh- and please leave a review and make the authoress remember that she actually has a fic to post... --;

Smile:D

Ireina


	4. Medicinal Touch

**When Angels Cry 4- Medicinal Touch  
**

* * *

Disclaimer:Yu-Gi-Oh and all its characters belong to Kazuki Takahashi. I'm just borrowing them for my own amusement. The only thing I own is the AU and the angel legends.

---------------------------------------------

Yaoi/shonen-ai. If you don't like, please don't read. Flames will be extinguished with great prejudice due to the fact that it is bushfire season and I hate bushfires. Many Australians do.

---------------------------------------------

Rated for bloody descriptions of battle, torture and later limes. (You know I can't resist!)

And if my beta has her way, probably a lemon or two as well... --;

---------------------------------------------

Dedicated to my reviewers!

Minasantaria

Nusku

inuyashagirl818

Cavialover

lynnwoo

Shadow Cat17

Still no responses to my last question... Bronzeshipping's definite, so I'm not changin' that! Any ideas for other pairings you guys would like to see? Yes, Yugi is going to come in later (bonus points if you guess how! Bonus points can be used to... iunno... you can trade them in for an early preview of the next chappy! Or you could request a oneshot... Yes... either/or! First in, best-dressed:P)

I'd like to see who you guys reckon Dartz should be paired with... I'd love a chance to write a little romance in for the guy. Anyways, this is a bit of a fluffy chapter, (cause I got sick of all the darn angst!) but first you're going to have to deal with graphic descriptions of Bakura's wounds.

Hope you all enjoy- please leave a review :D

Ireina

* * *

"Anyone here?!" yelled Marik, kicking the door open and putting Atemu down. 

"Never… _ever_… again." Atemu said shakily.

"Shut up. **_Anyone_**?"

A blue haired man fluttered around a corner. "Marik?" he asked, shock written across his features. "What in _God's_ name happened?" His gold eyes immediately went to the spot Bakura's wings would have sat- had they still been visible to Atemu's sight. "By God! Quick, bring him in and put him onto his bed." He looked around at Atemu, eyes lighting upon something it seemed only he could see. "I would have preferred to meet you again in happier circumstances. Hello Atemu."

"Who… _are_ you? And don't call me that." Atemu said. He was _sure_ that he'd seen that man with the blue-tinted wings before.

"It is unsurprising you don't remember me. You were no older than three or perhaps four when I last met you. I am Dartz. And why wouldn't I call you by your name?"

"I just… don't like being called that." The angel raised a slender blue brow, knowledge and understanding sparking in his eyes.

"If that is your wish, Yami. Now if you'll excuse me, I have a friend to save." And with a swish of his white robe he followed the path Marik had taken with Bakura.

**---------------------------------------------**

Atemu followed to see a shirtless Bakura lying face down on the bed- and he gasped feeling sick to the stomach at the stench of infection.

Across the angel's back were so many obviously deep stripes that there was hardly any skin left. Several were festering a terrible yellow-green colour mixed with the deep brown red of dried blood. That wasn't even the worst of it- into his back had been carved an ornate Celtic cross- and the cross was so badly infected the blood oozing from the wound was near to black. _(The cross, however had not been the doing of the angels, **that** was part of what had been done to Bakura before he had died, though the Tears had split the old scar open.)_

Several stained bandages lay on the floor, and Dartz was in the middle of removing yet more, Marik using his whole body to hold Bakura down as the hurt angel used all his not inconsiderable strength to try and throw them away from him, yelling "No! Stop it! Please!"

Marik cursed. "Where're Malik and Ryou when you need 'em?! Oi, brat! Don't just stand there, come here and _help_."

Atemu nodded, face pale and he darted forward and grabbed Bakura's left arm. The winged man whipped his head around and angry and agonised red eyes darted to his own.

"It's all right, Bakura! Stop thrashing around, you're going to hurt someone!" Atemu exclaimed, gripping said male's arm all the tighter.

Bakura's eyes appeared to calm, showing a spark of recognition. His wild movements slowed slightly.

"Atemu…?" he said in a voice hoarse from yelling.

"Yes. Please let Dartz get rid of that last set of bandages. It'll be over faster if you cooperate."

With an expression of complete trust that stabbed Atemu with a deep feeling of guilt and, oddly enough, shame, he nodded slowly and lay quietly back down, his only response now to the excruciating pain being silent tears

Marik shot Dartz a look that went unnoticed by Atemu, before the fallen angel released his comrade. "Here." he said, handing Atemu a crystal vial from his pocket.

"What's this for?"

"Angel's tears have a property that makes them heal all manner of ills. Seems a pity them going to waste."

Atemu shook his head and handed the crystal thing back. "No." he said simply. "He needs comforting, not someone catching his tears in a bottle." he finished, shooting a sharp glare at the fallen angel.

Marik gave a hidden smile, tucking the tiny thing in his pocket, nodding to Dartz. The test had worked.

"Medicine is not my area of expertise- I can heal but that's about it, my area of specialty was craftwork." he said cryptically, and Atemu wanted to ask what crafting angels did, but kept silent. "I will have to get Ryou- he used to be always dabbling in that sort of thing."

"Do you know if Malik might be with him also?" asked Marik casually.

"It is likely. Would you like me to bring him with us?" Dartz asked shrewdly.

"If he _wants_ to come… It might be helpful to have a third mind to help- he's on a battlefield most of the day, he must surely have picked up _something_ along the way."

Dartz smirked. "I shall be right back." With that, the blue-winged angel left. Marik sighed.

"I'll have to go and get fresh bandages. _Don't_ upset him, kid." he warned, leaving the two alone in the room.

**---------------------------------------------**

Atemu shifted, about to move into the seat that for some reason had been placed beside the bed, but Bakura grabbed his arm. "Don't… go…"

The teen tugged his arm in a weak attempt at getting free of the angel's strong grip.

"I'm just going to sit in the chair." he argued. Bakura's grip just tightened.

"Please… I know you… hate me… but… please… stay… The voice quiets… Tears… lose power…"

Cobbling together the words, Atemu realised that the angel was labouring under the mistaken assumption that he hated him. He didn't understand what Bakura meant about the Tears losing power, but decided to dismiss it as more of the injured male's fevered babbling. He sighed.

"I don't hate you. I'm just angry with you." he corrected.

"Stay."

It would really be much easier just to give in to Bakura's request, and he wasn't up to fighting him over it. Besides, it was not such a terrible ask.

"Fine, I won't move." he said, shaking his head in the affectionate way that a parent might shake their head at a precocious child. Bakura gave him a tiny smile, closing his eyes. Atemu felt his lips twitch into a returning smile, brushing damp locks of white hair from the angel's angular face.

**---------------------------------------------**

Soon Bakura was breathing evenly; hand still around Atemu's slender wrist. Atemu gently moved his grip to his own caramel-hued hand so as to be somewhat more comfortable.

When he was sure Bakura was asleep, he said; "I don't know what happened to you… but I'm starting to think that maybe you had a reason for not returning earlier…" He trailed off.

Carefully, he reached out his long-fingered hand and hesitantly ran it through the long white hair of the sleeping winged male, whom only shifted marginally closer to him. "Bakura, I'm s…"

"Bakura! God, Son and Holy Spirit!"

"It's worse than I had feared. You mentioned the Tears, but you didn't mention that it had taken hold this quickly!"

A slightly tamer and more delicate-looking version of Bakura with doe-brown eyes and emerald green tinged wings entered, followed by a male the very image of Marik, except with tamer hair, pale lavender eyes, and tawny gold wings. (The latter male had been the one to exclaim; _"Bakura! God, Son and Holy Spirit!"_)

The sleeping man shifted slightly, a small frown forming as he pulled Atemu down to him, to a cry of surprise from said teen as the feverish angel wrapped an arm around his waist to another yelp.

"Get him _off_ me!" the boy gasped, trying to push his arm away from him.

Marik came back in, bearing a load of bandages and odds and ends of material, and sniggered, while the other two stifled giggles. Dartz rolled his eyes with a quirk of the lip that could have been interpreted as being a smile, before carefully using his own angelic strength to pry Bakura's arms from Atemu's slim waist. Gratefully, Atemu moved away from the angel's body.

"Who are you two?" he asked curiously.

"I am Ryou and this is Malik." said the white-haired man who looked similar to the other angel currently tossing in sleep on the bed. "And you must be this Atemu that Bakura used to worry so about."

Malik just looked at Atemu with dislike clearly written upon his features. Atemu wondered for a moment what he'd done to cause such animosity- he'd never met the golden-winged man before at all. He quickly dismissed it- for the moment he needed to pay attention to what they were doing to the horrifically injured angel.

"We'll have to wake him up and get him to lift the glamour on his wings- if his back is this bad; I shudder to think what the place the Tear impacted looks like." Ryou continued grimly, ignoring the silent exchange between his friend and the younger mortal, with his fingers hovering gingerly just above the grievous wounds.

Gently Dartz shook Bakura's shoulder lightly and said, "Wake up, Bakura." The pale man shifted, before his eyelids fluttered open.

"Nng… Demons! Don't let… them get… Atemu!" he yelled, bolting upright. "Where… Atemu… voices…"

"I'm here. Shh." Atemu said, lightly touching a small patch of un-marked white skin on his shoulder. Haunted red-brown eyes were raised to his and the teen had to hold back his anger at whoever had put that look into those once proud eyes.

"Bakura, we need you to try and lift the glamour on your wings so we can help you feel better." Ryou said gently. "Do you think you could do that for us?"

Still staring at Atemu, he nodded, closing his eyes a brief minute before Atemu nearly fainted in shock. The once pure white wings were now mostly black, with only some scattered feathers still white. Feathers were missing; some were loose giving a tattered appearance to the winged appendages. What really gave Atemu a shock was the apparent weakness of the wings- they could barely move and the muscles had obviously shrunk to barely enough to keep them up off the floor. They were covered in wounds as keep and varied as the ones on his back and _all _of those were now festering.

Even the three angels and the Fallen One gave a gasp of shock.

"I need your help, Atemu." Ryou said directly, staring at him.

"_I_ can help. There's no need for _him_ to…" Malik started hotly, glaring venomously at Atemu.

"Let him help Malik." Dartz said, understanding what Ryou was playing at. The greenish-winged angel handed the dark-skinned teen a cloth and pointed to the bowl of warm water that had appeared from seemingly nowhere.

"You can clean his left wing. Malik, I'll need you to collect more herbs and things from my rooms- I'll need more equipment and stocks than what I've brought with me." Ryou ordered, obviously accustomed to taking charge in situations like this. "I'll clean his right wing and Dartz, you clean his back. Marik, we're going to need a heck of a lot more bandages and cloth than you've brought me. Can you burn those used ones? They're not safe to re-use, and I wouldn't trust them even after being boiled in hellfire!"

Malik and Marik nodded, both pale under the dark skin trademark of a person of Egyptian descent as they left.

Atemu dipped the cloth into the lightly steaming water. Wordlessly Bakura watched as Atemu dabbed hesitantly at a wound.

"It's not going to get cleaned if you just pat at it." Ryou chastised.

"Won't that hurt him?"

"Put it this way, if it's not cleaned properly, he'll be hurt even more." Dartz told him, hand with the rag moving with firm, sure strokes over the wounds in Bakura's back.

"Just do… it… Atemu."

The teen drew a deep breath, and with Bakura's permission given, he began to clean the wounds properly, face pale under his sun-kissed skin. Soon the wounds on his wing were all clean, ruby red blood beading on the black feathers (or sometimes a white one)

**---------------------------------------------**

Malik returned with a largish leather case in one hand. "I hope what you need's in here Ryou, 'cause the Archangel's goons were sniffing around looking for you, and they looked suspicious so I dared not search much further than grabbing this."

"Ah, thank you. Could you three come with me? I need to get several different salves and a few other things going at once."

"Can I help?" asked Atemu.

"We need someone to keep an eye on Bakura." Ryou said apologetically.

**---------------------------------------------**

After a few minutes' silence, the younger mortal spoke. "Your wings…" he said awkwardly. Bakura looked silently up at him, waiting for him to clarify.

"What… happened?" he asked, taking the plunge.

"So _now_ you… want to… know…" Bakura said scathingly. "Screw… protective instincts… should've let demons…" he muttered under his breath.

Atemu bristled. "I was angry Bakura. I still am."

"You… can see… my… wings… You knew…" the angel accused.

"No, I **_didn't_**! I couldn't see them, Bakura. I don't know why, or what went wrong, but I couldn't see them until you removed your glamour!" Atemu cried. "I don't understand Bakura! What _happened_ to you?" he whispered. "Who could have done such a thing to _anyone_, much less an angel?"

Delicately he reached out his fingers and ran them just above the arch of his wing, down to where feathers flowed into skin, resting them at the join, to a shiver from the winged man.

"The voice… from the Tears… is quiet… when… you… are in contact… with me." he said softly.

"I wonder why." Atemu mused, lifting his hand.

Bakura spun around and grabbed his hand. "Don't stop. I… don't like… not knowing… what's… going on around me… or spouting nonsense…"

"Bakura…" Atemu trailed off. The white-haired angel with the black-tainted wings was giving him a desperate look, red-brown eyes pleading. He sighed and lifted his other hand. Hesitantly he reached towards Bakura's face but paused before trying to gather himself.

"You had…more courage… as a child. You… started patting my…wings… without…permission, even though I was… a stranger."

With that, his fingers finally closed the distance and rested lightly upon Bakura's slightly fevered skin. The angel closed his eyes with a tiny sad smile.

Encouraged, he pushed Bakura's long white hair behind his ears before tracing his jawline and along his angular cheekbones.

**---------------------------------------------**

Bakura was feeling _really_ guilty. _'Atemu… I missed him.'_ he admitted. _'And… I shouldn't be enjoying this…God, I'm old… enough to be his… ten times great… grandfather!'_

He had enjoyed the boy's touch when he'd stroked his wings the first time, but not in _this _way! Before it had been completely innocent. Now…

He felt the tips of Atemu's forefinger trace the outline of his lips before it rested lightly on his lower lip. His tongue darted out to dampen suddenly dry lips, accidentally brushing the other male's finger.

Atemu started, pulling his hand back. "Sorry." Bakura apologised automatically.

"It's fine." This time he just picked up Bakura's slender white hand, tracing imaginary patterns on it with caramel coloured fingers. "You're so _white_."

"I was once as dark-skinned as you, if not darker."

"That's hard to believe."

"When my body was re-made, this was how it re-formed."

"Re-made?" questioned Atemu as he paused in his movements, looking up slightly to the other's eyes.

"My mortal body was… damaged one might say." Bakura said with a wry twist of his lips.

"Can I ask… how?"

"No." the angel said shortly, looking away. "You may not. I do not wish to re-visit it- especially with the memory of the past seven years still fresh in my mind."

The younger male looked down. "That was insensitive of me. If it required your body to be re-formed, whatever did it must have been _painful_." he said softly, resuming his soothing tracing over Bakura's palm.

"Yami, you have seen nothing of pain."

Atemu started. "Yami?"

"Isn't that what you _prefer_ now? After all, you said you didn't want me to call you Atemu."

"It just… sounds strange coming from you." he admitted.

"I will call you whatever you wish."

"I don't know, Bakura…" he said, dropping Bakura's slender hand and automatically clutching the necklace around his neck for solace in his confusion. How could he tell the angel _why_ he didn't want to be called by his preferred name when it was partly because of him?

Bakura hesitantly reached towards the hand around the gold chain. "Look at me."

The dark-skinned teen slowly lifted his magenta eyes to Bakura's red-brown orbs.

"You kept them." the white-haired angel said softly. Atemu reluctantly released his grip on the cross and feather. "All those years…" he continued, tracing the etchings on the cross with his fingertip. "… and you're still wearing them."

"Of course." Atemu replied quietly. "Thought it's mostly just habit now."

Softly Bakura traced the white feather no longer than his smallest finger suspended beside the cross, accidentally pressing it against the other, the feather illuminating as he made contact with it. Atemu closed his eyes.

"That tickles." he protested.

"My apologies." Bakura replied softly, lifting his finger, re-settling his hand on Atemu's instead, lacing his white fingers with the darker ones belonging to the younger male.

"Don't worry. It's ok." There was a comfortable silence for a minute or so. "Bakura, I'm…"

"Sorry we took so long!" trilled Malik's overly cheerful voice.

"This genius over here decided he'd try and 'help', even thought he barely knows belladonna from comfrey." Marik said, gesturing with his head to a slightly put-out Dartz.

"I _told_ you that medicine's not my forte." Dartz pointed out. "You were the idiots who made me help."

"Yes, well. We're finished now, so both of you stop arguing." Ryou scolded.

"Hey…" Malik said suddenly, staring at Atemu and Bakura.

"What?"

"Why are you two… holding _hands_?"  
"Because for some strange reason my touch keeps the 'Voice' in the 'Tears' or whatever they are from making Bakura a nut-case."

Bakura stayed silent, looking down and Ryou and Dartz (being rather perceptive souls) noted this.

"Makes sense. It could have something to do with why he could see Bakura's wings."

"You _do_ realise he saw my wings as well?" Dartz said quietly, still looking into Atemu's face with piercing gold eyes. He closed them for a minute, and then re-opened them. "Can you still see my wings?" he questioned, staring intently at the teen's face.

Atemu tilted his head to the side. The huge blue-silver appendages hadn't gone anywhere. "Aren't I supposed to?"

"Just tell me. Do you still see them?"

"Yes. Why?"

"I just placed a glamour over them. No one but another Higher Being should have been able to see that- not even a Satanspawn would have been able to see them."

"But he couldn't see Bakura's wings before, so why yours? Besides which, why can _he_ see through it if Satanspawn can't? He's definitely no Higher Being." Malik asked, frowning.

"Exactly what I was wondering, Malik. Exactly what I was wondering."

"No matter. I shall begin to apply this to your wings, and back, Akefia. It may hurt a tad. I only hope that this works. Atemu, stay in contact with him please. I don't want a semi-crazed Bakura on my hands."

"I wasn't _that_ bad before." Bakura muttered.

"You couldn't string together a coherent sentence Bakura." Dartz said dryly.

**---------------------------------------------**

Bakura lay on his stomach, wings and back covered in bandages, Atemu being the only other living creature in the room, though he had fallen asleep. The younger male had originally been sitting beside him on the edge of the bed; hand twined with Bakura's own, but now lay half-on, half-off the bed.

Bakura half-turned his head with a small half-smile, before pulling him (with a wince at the strain on the wounds) properly onto the bed so he would not fall off.

"I wonder what you were going to say before they interrupted." he said softly, before drifting back into sleep.

**---------------------------------------------**

Atemu woke to an expanse of whiteness surrounding him. Disoriented, he brushed his fingertips over the closest surface. This was familiar somehow…

He felt a warm presence at his back and he slightly rolled and saw a beatific cat-like face. The eyes were closed in sleep, but the white strands of hair gliding across the other male's cheek gave away his identity.

He then realised that the whiteness was the bandages that were wrapped tightly around the angel's injured and darkened wings.

Atemu sighed. "What _happened_ to you?" he again asked softly. The non-responsive angel frowned slightly, and his arm snaked around Atemu's waist and pulled the dark-skinned teen tightly to him. Atemu's hands lay flat against Bakura's chest, and he half-heartedly tried to push away from the angel, but his grip was too strong, even fast asleep as he was.

Awkwardly he shifted in Bakura's grip, somewhat flustered at the strange and new sensations that seemed to originate from the close and strangely intimate position he held against the warmth of the angel's body.

Then it connected.

_When he was young, before the accident, he had always insisted on white blankets. He had said it made him feel properly safe. It was the only thing he had the courage to ask for from his new adoptive parents…_

Now he knew why.

_Before even the accident, when he had first met Bakura when he'd been a mere toddler he had vague memories of falling asleep in the cool spring sunshine, safe and shielded beneath the older angel's white wings, spread protectively over his small form._

Atemu gave a small smile. Since then he had been unable to find something that gave him anything _like_ that feeling of safety. In Bakura's arms now, he was re-discovering what it was like to be safe. He could even pretend that he was loved.

Bakura's arms had tightened while Atemu was taking his little stroll down Memory Lane, and his face was not an inch from Atemu's own.

He must have made some from of noise when he discovered this, for Bakura's eyes snapped open, eyes blazing red. "Bakura, it's me!" Atemu exclaimed. The angel's face relaxed and his eyes returned to their usual red-brown state.

"Atemu?! What are you doing here? You shouldn't be… sleeping next to me."

"I wasn't when I went to sleep! _You_ put _your_ arms around **_me_**." Atemu said indignantly.

"Oh." Bakura said, not removing his arms from their place around Atemu's slender waist. A few seconds later, still in direct eye-contact with the angel, Atemu said; "Aren't you going to let me go now?"

"Do you want me to?"

Atemu thought a minute. It was likely he probably _shouldn't_ be so physically close to the other male- what would the others think? Not to mention the angel was God-only-knew how old. There'd have to be a gigantic age difference, but at least Bakura would have had years of experience…

_'Years of experience with **what**? God, what on **Earth** am I thinking? Experience doesn't matter, it's not like I **want** him or anything…'_ he thought, embarrassed at the previous train of thought running through his head. His eyes widened a fraction. _'Oh damn…'_ That _couldn't_ be…

The angel looked at him solemnly. "I think I should let you go." he said. "I… apologise." he said stiffly, making as though to release Atemu.

Thinking fast, Atemu recognised the ring of some form of negative emotion in Bakura's voice (It couldn't be… _hurt) _and made a quick decision.

"You don't have to… It's fine. I… don't mind."

Bakura blinked. "Aren't you mad at me?" he inquired.

"Yes, but I…" The younger male paused. "I'm quite comfortable here, thank you." he finished with a light tone of voice.

Bakura raised an eyebrow.

**---------------------------------------------**

The sandy-blonde man with ebony wings strode through the mountainous forest, grumbling under his breath. "_Why_ Malik wanted to see me way out _here_ of all places… He only just made it back to the Heavenly Realm yesterday, and what, he's _already_ bored of it?" After all, the tenshi couldn't have missed _him._

He was somewhat vexed, as under the forest's canopy he had barely room to move his large black wings, let alone fly and as a result, he was beginning to feel somewhat claustrophobic. Not to mention that it was a rather long walk without the benefits of flight.

Soon the endless green of the forest ended and light became visible, and soon enough he stood at the edge of a slightly slanted cliff face.

Beneath the cliff, he noted absently, lay a small but fast-flowing river wending its way through the forest below. And standing there with his back to the fallen angel was a familiar figure with golden wings, sandy hair fluttering in the light breeze.

"Malik? Why on _Earth_ did you want to see me all the way out here? And so soon after your return home too?"

The other winged man turned, and Marik saw the cuts and bruises that marred his body, and he narrowed his dark lilac eyes. Surely _all_ of those couldn't be from the battlefield! "Something's going on Marik. Something big. As soon as I returned, I was immediately asked where I'd gone, what I'd done, who I'd seen and the like." He took a deep breath. "I wanted to meet you here because it's one of the few places that aren't being monitored by either the Archangel or any… others." he finished delicately.

"What?"

"Marik, I came to warn you. Someone high up _purposely_ released demons- _shape-shifting ones_ into the Mortal Realm. And… that same person has access to the Library of Recorded History. Books have been disappearing…"

"I thought you were a warrior-angel?" Marik interrupted.

"I have friends, and certain books are missing. Books with very worrying titles. Marik, one of them is the Tome that records the history of the few Fallen ones."

Marik gave a blank look. He didn't understand what the tenshi was saying.

"So?" It didn't matter about some books going missing. They were only books after all.

"You don't understand, Marik! I think they're going after _you_- and I also think they're the ones that framed Bakura and got him into trouble with the Council!" Malik exclaimed. "They've already destroyed him- you saw what they did to him and he's one of the most powerful angels I've seen since I became a Higher Being!" Malik snapped. He turned back to face the edge of the cliff. "Oh I don't know why I bothered." he muttered irritably.

"Why do you _care_ if they come for me, tenshi? I'm a Fallen One for a reason, and I fell from grace long before you ascended. Why would a Heaven-bound angel care if I- a Fallen one is targeted hm?" Marik questioned, honestly curious. It was quite beyond him why this heavenly creature would care what happened to a tainted thing like him.

"Oh never-**_mind_**!" Malik stormed, throwing himself into the air with violent beats of his wings.

Marik thought he heard the angel mutter something like; _"You're completely oblivious."_ but he must have been mistaken. Angels didn't care one whit for Fallen angels. It was a fact of life. Fallen angels were too dark for Heaven, but not dark enough for Hell. No matter _how_ much it might be wished for, angels just didn't consider their darker counterparts as anything other than something evil to be avoided…

It was really rather a pity- the gold-winged spitfire of a tenshi was gorgeous.

* * *

Yep, Bronzeshipping ain't goin nowhere! xP 

Requests for pairings can be either PM'ed to me or... left in all the reviews I know you nice people are going to leave for me!

Anyways, hope you all enjoyed and...

SMILE :D

Ireina


	5. Golden Feathers and Teardrops

**When Angels Cry 5- Golden Feathers and Teardrops  
**

* * *

Yaoi/shonen-ai. If you don't like, please don't read. Flames will be extinguished with great prejudice due to the fact that it is bushfire season and I hate bushfires. Many Australians do. 

**---------------------------------------------**

Rated for bloody descriptions of battle, torture and later limes. (You know I can't resist!)

And if my beta has her way, probably a lemon or two as well... --;

**---------------------------------------------**

Dedicated to my reviewers!

Nusku

lynnwoo

Cavialover

inuyashagirl818 (just 'cause I'm upset with you doesn't mean I'm not going to acknowledge you.)

Nyan Rajanu

YugiTheDarkPharaoh

Minasantaria

Shadow Over Egypt

Shadow Cat 17

Basima

UtterxDemise

Another quick thing, this chapter was written under severe stress, so please forgive any spelling or grammar errors and I suspect that there may be a plot-hole or two that escaped my scrutiny (my beta and I know each other in real life, and I've been upset with her and we've not been speaking for over a week now, so no new beta as yet...) Oh, and as usual, hates me, so formatting may be whacked out... --;

If you really want to know more about that whole issue with my beta you could go to my Live Journal: http// nekogirl-beth16 .livejournal. com/ (just get rid of the spaces) or search for the user nekogirl(underscore)beth16 on Live Journal. Of course replace the (underscore) with the actual symbol...

You may have to go a ways back if you want to see the true origins of the whole story... But you don't have to, this is a message mainly for inuyashagirl818. If she actually decides to read this.

Side pairings have been decided upon! See if you can figure them out! (though they don't really get hinted on till next chappie... Apart from the Bronzeshipping...)

Anyways, on with the story!

* * *

"Have you discovered anything?" came a high, cold and feminine voice from the narrow-backed chair, built to accommodate the large feathery appendages springing from her back. 

The angel cowering behind the chair that currently stood facing the merrily crackling fire said; "Y… yes, my Lady, we have."

"And?"

"We compiled a… a _file_, my Lady."

"You mean _this_ rubbish?" she said disdainfully, tapping a slender finger on the plain manila folder that lay on the side-table beside the chair. "This '_file_' contains nothing more than what can be found in the '_Tome of Fallen Angels_.'. I would hope you had the sense to do additional research." she said in a dangerously silky tone of voice.

"Well, er… my Lady, w… we… we couldn't find_anything_ on him, so we… er… _borrowed_ the Tome…" The angel cringed as the seated winged female's voice cracked like a whip through the room.

"You mean you _drew _the attention of the_ **Chief Librarian**_, who, by the way is_no_ idiot, _because_ you_ **lazy**_** _IMBECILES _**couldn't be_ bothered _to do some_ **legwork**_?!" she yelled, standing and whirling around to face the cowering angel all in one swift movement.

"Well… erm… y…yes…" They cowered even more as the Lady continued her angry tirade.

"_Malik_, the new Captain of the Fifth Battalion of the Heavenly Host of Abyss warriors, found out about the missing Tome and he _warned _Marik you dolts!" she screamed. "They are now forewarned and Marik is suspicious! The only _good_ thing that came out of this debacle is that we now know what, or rather _who_ is most precious to the Fallen Angel Marik…"

"Who, my Lady?"

She let out a tinkle of laughter that sent shivers up the angel's spine "Let us say that Marik has given us a... _golden_ opportunity." she smirked, apparently the image of calm. That was one thing that the angel would never get used to- her completely random mood changes.

She turned back to the fire that had roared up with her anger. She lifted from the mantel a long golden feather.

The angel at her feet gained an expression of dawning comprehension.

**---------------------------------------------**

"I should not really be here. But you should be informed that your cousin is safe and well." "Who the _hell_ are you? And how do you know I even have a cousin? Forgetting that, how do you come to know him?"

"It is of no concern. I just thought that you should be informed."

There was a pause.

"... Are you going to a fancy-dress party or something?"

"No. Why do you ask?"

"I was just wondering why you felt the need to wear those tacky fake blue wings."

**---------------------------------------------**

"Did you see Bakura?" Ryou asked.

Marik turned around. "Huh? I wasn't listening." he said distractedly, opening the bottle of water in his hand.

"Did you see Bakura... and _Atemu_?"

"Why, what're they doing now?" the black-winged male asked, rolling his eyes and taking a sip of his water.

"Sleeping together."

Marik nearly spat out his drink. "Whaaat!? Isn't Atemu a little..._ young_ for him?! Besides, I would've thought they hated each other..." A thought suddenly occurred to him. "_Damn_ Ryou! Why were you _watching _them?!!" he screeched.

Ryou blushed bright red. "I didn't mean it _that_ way! I meant literally. Atemu-chan's curled up against our Bakura and Bakura's covered them with his wings."

"Oh thank God. Hey... where'd Dartz run off to?"

"I don't know. I haven't seen him in a while. At any rate, here's the recipe for what I used on his wounds. I need to return, lest I attract unwanted attention to you both." Ryou said, handing the dark angel a sheet of paper with a neat, well-formed script covering it. Marik took the paper from the tenshi. "Goodbye Marik. When Dartz comes back, send him back to Heaven, would you? He has work to attend to, the library apparently needs him. More books have gone missing or something like that. They were probably just misfiled or something."

"Yeah. Misfiled or something..." Marik echoed, remembering Malik's interesting revelations.

Malik had genuinely seemed _worried_ about him. Him! He must've been wrong though- the golden-winged tenshi _couldn't_ care enough to be worried about him. He was a Fallen Angel, a disgrace that was neither good nor evil, but somewhere in the many shades of gray in the middle. Looked down on by Heaven and Hell alike, black-winged angels did not fit anywhere, and were indeed the 'outcasts' that Malik had called him at their first meeting.

He had made his choices, and he did not regret them. Usually. But _this _angel, this one was different from the other angels. He was a feisty one, powerful and smart. Not to mention _definitely_ attractive. Ah, but the fact remained that he was still an angel, and male angels did not take male lovers.

"Well, goodbye then Marik. Take care of Bakura, hm?"

"Hn? Oh, whatever. Of course." He said absently, not noticing as the green-winged angel left.

**---------------------------------------------**

An hour or so later, a familiar blue-haired individual entered with a slightly dazed and shocked expression on his face.

"It seems that young Atemu… was no the only one in his family to inherit that strange ability…" he said, half to himself. But _why_ can he see my wings _now_ when he couldn't as a child?" he mused, nearly walking into an equally distracted Marik.

"Watch where you're going, you stupid angel." the male with the black wings hissed at Dartz.

"What about you _also_ watching where you're going, **_outcast_**." the blue-winged angel snapped, cranky at having been interrupted in the middle of thinking and subsequently losing his train of thought.

"Outcast…" Marik murmured sourly. "Sounds about right."

Dartz scrutinised Marik's dark-skinned face. "I apologise. That was out of line." He hadn't _meant_ to snap- but he _did_ have a tendency to get easily annoyed with interruptions in general- that was perhaps the reason he was the Chief Librarian in Charge of the Histories of the Three Realms, rather than in a more… _interactive_ job.

"No, it wasn't. I knew what I was getting into when I chose to fall. But that doesn't mean sometimes I don't… wish I hadn't…" he trailed off.

Dartz stared at him for a minute, trying to figure out what he meant. Then it clicked. "Malik. You saw him again, didn't you? When Ryou and I weren't around."

Marik nodded. "He said he needed to talk to me about something."

The aqua-haired angel nodded understandingly. "He's worried about you, you know."

The other winged male sighed. "I know. I just don't understand it."

"That's why you're so distracted. You will understand when you think it over." Dartz reassured him.

"I _have _thought it over, but the conclusion I reached… Well the only _plausible_ answer makes absolutely no sense at all!" the fallen angel exclaimed frustratedly.

"Well, when one has eliminated all the impossible conclusions, whatever remains, however far-fetched must be the truth. Sometimes things _don't_ make sense. Why don't you talk to _him_ about it instead of stressing over it? Oh and how are Bakura and the young one?"

"Apparently they're sleeping together."

"Whaaat!? That soon?" Dartz screeched in surprise. Marik couldn't help but laugh at the angel's uncharacteristic (and undignified) loss of his usual composure. "What is so _damned_ funny?!" he demanded as Marik continued to laugh helplessly.

"Shh, you'll wake them up! And I didn't mean it _that_ way, stupid tenshi!" Marik gasped in between laughing, trying to quiet the male with the (currently twitching) blue wings.

"I apologise." Dartz said, beginning to calm down. "You merely startled me."

"What did you mean; 'that soon?!' I thought male tenshi didn't take male lovers, so why did you say that instead of something more… disapproving?" demanded the dark-winged angel confusedly.

If that unknowing comment meant what he thought it meant… Maybe Malik wouldn't be so far out of reach as he'd first assumed. Marik didn't know when his idle note that the tenshi wasn't too terrible to look at had begun to grow, but grow it had. If the angel was not unreceptive to a male's advances…

"It is not… a usual occurrence." Dartz began carefully. "But it _has_ been known to happen, and besides which, Bakura is no longer an angel- he is a Fallen One like yourself." He tilted his head to one side. "But I don't think it's because of Bakura you want to know." He added softly, so that Marik couldn't hear.

Thoughtfully the dark-skinned man with black wings nodded.

"At any rate, you should speak to Malik yourself about that. Where's Ryou?"

"Ah, that's right, Ryou wanted me to tell you to go back, 'cause the library needs you to investigate missing books or something like that." Marik replied carelessly, flapping a hand dismissively.

"Not _more_ missing! That History of Fallen Ones was bad enough to 'go missing', I can only hope that the…" He caught himself before he could say it. "… more _sensitive_ books don't 'disappear!' I _wish_ Archangel Melanie would allow me to add more security." Dartz cursed, leaving Marik standing in the centre of the room as he absently left, forgetting about the dark angel in his consternation at yet _more_ of his books going missing… and not knowing for sure who had taken them.

"Interesting indeed… Not usual you say? Well, one might say I am an _expert_ on unusual…" the ebony-winged man mused thoughtfully.

**---------------------------------------------**

"Ne, Bakura?" Atemu said softly, tapping said male on the shoulder. The angel stirred, eyelids fluttering open.

"…What?" he asked sleepily.

"Why… why did you, you know, when you were sick… You said something about demons; you were so worried they'd get me… I was just wondering… _why_?"

"Because I did not want them to hurt you."

"I know _that_, but _why_?" the mortal pressed.

"I wish I could tell you, Atemu-chan."

"Don't use 'chan'! I'm not a child any more Bakura."

"And don't I know it…" the male angel muttered under his breath.

Atemu tilted his spiky head to the side. "What do you mean, 'And don't I know it…'?" he asked innocently, honestly having no clue what the other meant.

"Never mind."

"No, seriously, tell me! I want to know!"

"No."

"Explain what you meant, Bakura." Atemu said flatly, in a tone that brooked no resistance.

"Don't _worry_!"

"If you don't tell me, I'll just think the worst, you know." the teen threatened.

Bakura sighed heavily. "Case in point."

Atemu glared at him in the dappled light coming through the feathery 'roof' above them, the light creating a strangely lovely dappled play of shadow and light. The angel closed his eyes and shoved the thoughts that the teens oddly, well, _beautiful_ features provoked, semi-cloaked in shadows away from him, and forced his mouth to move in answer.

"Well, you definitely don't look childish at _all _any more, Atemu." he started hesitantly. "And I had noticed. That's all."

"Why didn't you just tell me then? No, there was something else behind that statement." Atemu decided, shaking his head, completely missing the full implications of what the angel had just said. Just as Bakura had known the innocent young man would.

"That's _all_." he said firmly.

"No. No, it's not." Atemu said in a surprisingly shrewd voice. "There's more. You just don't want to say."

"I _can't_ say, Atemu."

"Yes you can."

"I really _can't_… And I shouldn't have even said it. Just forget about it." Bakura said, not meeting the clear ruby gaze of his charge.

Hesitantly, said charge laid a dark hand on Bakura's pale cheek, gently forcing the angel to look him in the eyes. "You can't… or you _won't_?" he asked.

"Both." he whispered, feeling strangely guilty.

Atemu stared sombrely back at him and both were quiet for several minutes.

**---------------------------------------------**

The angel really wasn't that bad looking. Not bad looking at all… Silvery-white locks of hair framed the angular planes of his face, long tendrils curling around his body, ending at his hips. Deep, ageless red-brown eyes were set against very pale, practically pure white skin, aquiline nose and firm-seeming, rose pink and well-shaped lips.

_'What would it be like_…' he wondered out of the blue. '_…to **kiss** him?_' He had never kissed anyone- had never really wished to. But, whyever shouldn't he ask _Bakura_ to give him his first kiss? The angel would know how it was done; he was not unattractive and perhaps would not mind helping him. His arms _were_ still around Atemu's waist after all.

"Ne, Bakura…" he started hesitantly.

"…yes?"

"I… well, I'd like to… ask you something…" he stuttered out, and he cursed inwardly as he felt a blush rise in his cheeks. The angel studied his face for a minute.

"What…"

"I've never… well, I've never _actually_…"

"Spit it out, Atemu."

"I've never… _kissed_ anyone. So I… I was just… sort of wondering if… maybe you could…" he trailed off.

Bakura gave a confused frown. "If I could what?"

He took a deep breath. "If you could sh… show me what it's… like." He finished shyly, face flaming red.

Bakura's eyes went wide in shock. "But… I'm a _male_. And I don't deserve your first kiss, Atemu. That's special and you should save it to give to someone special to you."

**---------------------------------------------**

Bakura did not understand _why_ he wanted _him_ of all people to take his first kiss; he knew that with the boy's Japanese upbringing that his first kiss would be special, and that it should only be given to a special person in his life. Not to mention that in angelic society (or at least, from what he remembered of it,) males did not take other males as lovers, so there was _that_ obstacle. Though it did not seem like his body really minded…

**---------------------------------------------**

"I don't care if you're a male. Why should I?" Atemu said rebelliously. While not common in modern society, the idea of two males kissing was not terrible to him. "And I trust _you_ to do the right thing by me."

"I thought you were mad at me."

"I am. Doesn't mean I don't trust you. But if you don't want to kiss me, I understand. But you could've just _told_ me." Atemu huffed, rolling over, feeling embarrassed, rejected and slightly stupid. _'What was I **thinking**? Of **course** he wouldn't want to kiss me. I'm only a child in his eyes anyway.'_ he thought, more distressed by the idea than he thought perhaps he should be…

"That's not it Atemu." Bakura said quietly. The other male continued to ignore him. "Look at me, Atemu." he continued patiently.

Bright red and scowling, Atemu rolled back over to face the angel. A lily-white hand tentatively reached out and caressed the mortals caramel hued skin. Bakura licked his lips. "That's not it at _all_." he said roughly before he pulled Atemu flush against him and softly and tenderly kissed his unresisting mouth, lingering slightly before pulling back.

"What the…" Atemu said, reaching up to touch his lips, frowning. He met Bakura's eyes, the angel staring intently at him, trying to gauge his reaction. "Do that again."

A delicate white eyebrow quirked. "Again?" he questioned, light tone belying the intense look in his eyes. "Why? I thought you wanted me to give you your _first_ kiss."

"Just, do it please?" Atemu replied distractedly, fingertips still touching his lower lip.

_'That… did **he**_ _do that? Was it because **he** kissed me, or does it happen when **anyone** kisses you…_' he wondered, referring to the odd tingling in his lips that was rapidly spreading through him.

"I _really_ shouldn't…" Bakura reluctantly replied, half-heartedly making to loosen his hold.

"Look, if _you_ won't…" Atemu said irritably before pressing his own inexperienced lips to the older males. Bakura widened his eyes in brief shock before his eyelids fell and he kissed the other male back.

**---------------------------------------------**

'_No! No! God, this is too cruel. He is too young, he is **mortal**, and he is a **he**! I could **never** keep him, not matter how I might wish too… Not that I do of course, there must be some other explanation for this whole thing… Oh who am I kidding? There **is** no rational explanation. At any rate, I can't let him come to care for me- with what's been going on, it'll only put him in danger. This whole mess can only end in someone hurting… And I'd much rather it be me…'_ Bakura thought despairingly.

But Atemu's lips on his felt so good- so _right_ that he couldn't bring himself to break the kiss. He could _taste_ the younger male's innocence in the chaste and inexperienced way his lips pressed against the (now black-winged) angel.

"Atemu…" he murmured against the other's lips. "We shouldn't… this is…"

"Why do my lips tingle?" Atemu wondered aloud, ignoring (or just simply not noticing) Bakura's awkward attempt at damage control.

"…is… _what_? What… did you just say?"

"Nothing." the dark-skinned teen said hurriedly, face pink under his tan.

**---------------------------------------------**

Dartz sat in a narrow-backed chair of some pale whitish wood, (willow perhaps?) that had been sparsely decorated with esoteric-seeming runes carved into the almost shining wood.

Bespectacled and frowning, he sat reading a paper in front of him that had neat, elegant script in some language that vaguely resembled ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs, yet were obviously not of Egyptian background.

He placed the paper back in the pile on the desk that, underneath all the papers and books was a pale wood the exact match of the chair he currently sat upon, straight-backed and obviously worried (if one was to judge by the line of his body.) and instead stood, striding over to a thick, heavy seeming volume bound in an off-white leather with a simple black feather which appeared to be so black one could forget that there were other colours at all crossed at the tips with a white one that seemed to shine with an ethereal light etched into the leather. It sat on a lectern that had obviously been made especially to support this particular book.

Made of some shining white gem, the lectern was beautifully carved, though it seemed so fragile it could not possibly support the weight of such a large book.

He ran delicate fingertips over the cover, tracing the outline of the black feather and its accompanying white feather before lifting the cover and carefully turning the thick pages of vellum.

He stopped a mere twelve pages or so into the book, tracing the last words, written in a dark red ink.

"_Amaranthe nic Cuinn… twelfth Archangel…_" he picked from the text, reading it aloud softly, frowning. "_Born BC 918_, _died BC 886, ascended to Archangel BC 880…_" The frown eased into a strangely sad expression. "_… Executed in AD 12…_" He did not read the listed reason, instead closing the book with another frown, tracing the spidery gold hieroglyph-like writing just under the white feather.

"_The Tome of Remembrance._" he read aloud. Then, the even smaller subtitle, just under the black one. "_Even the greatest fall…_"

There was a tentative tap at the door. "Chief Librarian Dartz?" came a timid voice.

He turned and went back to his desk. "Enter." he called tersely, lifting his spectacles from his nose and carefully folding them into a case that he extricated from underneath a tenuously leaning pile of papers. "What is it Sumiko?"

A timid young angel with pale pink wings and short brown hair accentuated with hot pink streaks entered. "I'm dreadfully sorry to interrupt; I know that you're a busy man…"

Dartz flapped a hand irritably. "Nonsense. What's the problem?"

"It's just that… well, we… we just recovered one of the missing Tomes, s… sir."

"And…"

"It's been… _written_ in!" she said in a horrified whisper that decried such sacrilege.

"Which one?" the aqua-haired angel asked sharply, sitting a little straighter. Perhaps a little _too_ sharply…

"The…the Tome th…that carries the… the history of the F…Fallen Ones…" she stammered fearfully.

"Oh I'm not going to rip your head off, young one!" he said, softening his voice so as not to further intimidate the young female angel. "Where is it? Could you have it brought here, please?" he instructed.

"As you wish… Chief Librarian, sir." she said, quietly shutting the door behind her as she left.

Dartz sighed, rubbing his temples with one hand. "The plot thickens…" he murmured.

**---------------------------------------------**

"Leave me be! I have done nothing that renders the treaty null! You have no _right_ to do this! This is neutral territory! The Archangel will…"

"The_Archangel_ has no powerrrr overrr _usss_… But thingsss arre changing… Ssshe may not hold power over angels much lonngerrr…" came a sibilant hissing.

"No! Get away!" A noise like a knife through a soggy paper bag preceded a sickening sound of tearing and then: "**_ARRGGHHH!!_**"

The agonised scream rang through the forest, before it was abruptly silenced.

**---------------------------------------------**

Slowly Bakura's wounds had begun to heal, but as the days melted into weeks (for it seemed another unfortunate side-effect of the Tears of Blood that had touched his wings was that it slowed his healing rate to that of a human.) the tentative understanding that had risen between the injured angel and his charge began to slowly disappear, for Atemu did not need to spend so much time with Bakura, and he also had school to attend, and Bakura was not yet strong enough to leave and return to his teaching position. (The news that he was on 'sick leave' had been received terribly by the student body, and they were all anxiously awaiting his return- and giving all his subs a _horrible_ time while they were at it…)

Marik was really beginning to get annoyed with Bakura's near-constant complaining about not being allowed to leave his bed, even though he 'felt just _fine_!'

Dartz and Ryou had visited every now and then, but Malik had been conspicuously absent, and the dark tenshi was somewhat concerned, (he had _business_ with the angel, dammit, and the gold-winged man would damn well settle it!)

"Ryou!"

"Ah… yes, Marik?"

"Is Malik angry with Bakura or I?"

"Why would you ask that? Actually, I don't think I've seen him around at _all_ in quite a while actually. But then again, that's not unusual, he's a warrior angel in the abyss, and I work in the administrational side of Heaven." Ryou said thoughtfully, tapping his lips with his forefinger.

Marik frowned. "Before I go looking for him, one last question. Have you, or any of your male friends ever taken another man for a lover?"

The white-haired man with the pale green wings closed his eyes, turning his face away, trying to hide the expression of deep pain on his face. "Yes." He whispered. "But please, don't bring that up. I couldn't bear to talk about it."

"I'm sorry to ask, but what happened?"

"He… went missing several years ago. No-one has been able to find him. Now _please_. No more…" Ryou finished tremulously, doe-brown eyes shining with unshed tears.

Marik clapped a hand on his shoulder in sympathy. "I'm sorry for your loss." he said in an awkward-sounding formal voice. "I must go now. Thank-you for helping me and I'm sorry for bringing up such obviously… _painful_ memories."

With that the ebony-winged man with grim dusky purple eyes left.

**---------------------------------------------**

_'If, as Ryou and Dartz say, he's not in Heaven, and he's not here in the Abyss…'_ His eyes widened. _'What if he sent a message to ask me to meet him, and it was intercepted?'_ he thought, horror dawning on his face.

"No!" he whispered, changing direction towards the nearest Gate to Earth. Once he had slipped through, he immediately set course for the forest where Malik had met him the last time he'd seen the angel who looked so like him, yet so different.

He landed in the closest clearing, wings protesting at the punishing speed he'd had to take, and he immediately began to run through the forest, heedless of the minor cuts and scratches he gained as he followed his intuition like a homing beacon towards the cliff's edge where Malik had once stood, golden feathers ruffling in the breeze, light lavender eyes focused solely on _him…_

A particularly nasty branch took advantage of his distraction to whip across his face and he saw stars for a minute before growling and ripping it from the tree and continuing.

For the second time in as many weeks, he burst out of the trees and there, on the very highest branch of the lone tree closest to the edge hung Malik.

One wing was cruelly speared clean through by the branch he hung from (the sharp tree-limb in the wing was the only think keeping the prone angel from plummeting to the ground beneath them.) but the other wing… A single drop of silvery tinged blood fell into the dust beneath the poor angel, grass blooming underneath its holy touch.

With a horrified understanding, Marik hurried to the edge of the cliff, instinctively reaching to try and grasp the other tanned male's wrist, hoping that the blood wasn't from what he thought it was, and that's when he saw it.

On the ground, at the very bottom of the cliff, trailing in the water was Malik's second missing wing, a pool of silvery tinted blood surrounding the gold feathered limb that lay atop a paradoxically green cushion of dill.

He knew, just _knew_ that an angel could not survive the pain of having a wing torn from their body, so he reached for a pulse with trembling hands that already knew what he'd find…

He screamed when he found no answering beat of a pulse anyway. "_Nooo! **Malik!**_" The sheer volume of his furious anguish driving several birds to flight. He slapped the pulse-less tenshi across the face, hoping irrationally that it might wake him up, that he was just too shaky to feel a pulse.

"Wake up! _Wake up!_ Don't die, **_please_**! Oh God, please, please, don't be dead…" Angry tears blurred his vision. "I never even got the chance to ask you… to see if…" He dashed away the single tear that rolled down his cheek. "Why did they hurt _you?_! It was me they wanted… it was _me_… _IT SHOULD'VE BEEN **ME**!_" he raged.

With great difficulty, the distraught Fallen One gently lifted the body of the tenshi, carefully removing his last wing semi-intact from the branch.

Cradling the limp body to him, tears finally falling slowly into the other's sandy locks. Marik headed back to the place where Bakura and Ryou currently waited. On impulse, he collected the severed wing as well- he wouldn't let them get a trophy out of it if _he_ could help it.

**---------------------------------------------**

"Oh… hello, Marik." Ryou said, sniffing slightly. "Did you find… Malik?" he continued, not turning.

"Oh, I… I _found_ him, all right…" Ryou frowned at Marik's raw and hoarse voice.

"Marik? What's…? Oh **_God_**!" He held a hand to his mouth, feeling physically ill at the sight of the severed wing, still dripping blood and water.

"Th… they tore his w…wing off and let him… let him fall. I… I found him hanging by a branch… that had gone straight through his last wing. Ryou, he… he hasn't got a pulse."

"Who could _do_ such a thing?" the pale-green winged angel whispered in shock.

"Whoever was behind what happened to me." came a thin voice from the doorway. Bakura slowly came forward, taking small and careful steps. "This is all connected- it _has_ to be. Whoever is behind this has a high place in Heaven. It's the only explanation."

"You should go back to bed, Bakura." Ryou said numbly, quickly moving to stabilise his still-recovering friend.

"No. I'm plenty healed! Someone needs to watch Atemu. That young mortal is the key to this whole thing, and the only person who can tell us why is his original Guardian."

**---------------------------------------------**

"The golden-winged one isss eliminated, my Lady." came a sibilant, snake-like voice from the shadows.

"Good… we've destroyed one of the boy's staunchest defenders _and_ a dissenter with one fell swoop."

"But, Marik is still alive, Lady." piped up the other figure kneeling in front of the winged Lady, this one the angel from earlier.

"My dears there are other ways to destroy a soul. By destroying that which they hold most dear and precious to their heart breaks a person- obliterating the will to fight. Sometimes," she mused. ", even the will to _live_. Best-case scenario of course, so it is unlikely here, but… A girl can hope." An eerie giggle issued from the seated woman.

"Forgive me Lady, but… what if… just if… it _doesn't_ break him? What if he just gets mad?'

"It is still in our favour. An angry person makes reckless decisions- and stupid mistakes."

The other angel further bowed their head. "Yes, Lady. What is our next move?"

"We have eliminated the two protectors the boy had. Now, dears we may take him. He is at the local high-school. He is sixteen now, I believe and in the second grade of high-school, or year Eleven as it is known in the western parts of the Mortal Realm. We will watch his co9mngs and goings, and when it is most opportune we will take him. Yami Atemu Mutou… How can something like you exist?" she said softly. "Be assured, _boy-_" she said, addressing the closed book sitting on a simple wooden stand. "I _will_ know by the time this is all over…" She caressed the black velvet cover of the book with a laugh.

* * *

PLEASE DON'T KILL ME for killing Malik! Trust in the power of 'slashy-ever-after'! XD 

To explain about what Marik meant by the 'paradoxically green cushion of dill.' thing is that Dill symbolises good cheer and survival, hence the paradox symbolism.

I'm just wondering, but does anyone have a theory yet as to who this 'My Lady' is that all these bad guys keep bowing down to?

Anyways, hope you all enjoyed and I'm so sorry it's late!

Smile :D

Ireina


	6. Instincts of an Ancient Angel

**When Angels Cry 6- Instincts of an Ancient Angel  
**

* * *

Yaoi/shonen-ai. If you don't like, please don't read. Flames will be extinguished with great prejudice due to the fact that it is bushfire season and I hate bushfires. Many Australians do. 

**---------------------------------------------**

Rated for bloody descriptions of battle, torture and later limes. (You know I can't resist!) Considering a lemon in due time... ;)

**---------------------------------------------**

Dedicated to my reviewers!

Cavialover

Shadow over Egypt

YugiTheDarkPharaoh

Minasantaria

Nusku

UtterxDemise

Yami no Hitokiri

lynnwoo

Nyan Rajanu

ShadowCat17

Basima

**---------------------------------------------**

Ok, it has come to my attention that I perhaps did not make much sense in my last chapter... If you'd like me to clarify some specific thing, then please feel free to let me know what was troubling you. I know that I could probably have split that last one into two, but.. I don't know what happened... :0

Not to worry- my head's thoroughly screwed on with this chapter and with luck, I've muddled through self-beta'ing properly! This is 6432 words, not counting disclaimer and authors note/s, so I've broken my own record.

The third (but not final!) pairing becomes obvious in this chapter... ;p

Here's hoping you guys don't mind the pairing (I know several of you liked the idea so...) I'm also introducing the idea of a line or two from a song or a quote at the beginning of this chapter, but I'll only be doing that when I can find a pertinent quote/song lyric.

This one's from the song 'Aquarius' by Within Temptation

_ You call to me Aquarius...  
I need to be with you again  
I fear you, Aquarius..._

The reasoning behind the above piece of song should become apparent by the end.

Y'know what's really annoying me? The way this site doesn't let you format properly- it has a tendency to delete back-spaces... --; And I must apologise for the lack of Darkshippy goodness in this chapter, I couldn't really put it in and have the chapter flow properly...

* * *

"Takimura-_kun_, pay attention! I don't want to have to give you another detention because you're daydreaming _again_." shrilled a high female voice from the front of the (suddenly silent) classroom. 

Ruby eyes rolled as their owner stood. "I am sorry, Haruko-sensei."

"And how many times must I ask you to remove that necklace?" A finger pointed accusingly at the innocently hanging golden chain that bore the single white feather and the ancient-seeming cross.

"At least once more, sensei. I don't believe it's fair to…" began Atemu rationally, before he was cut off.

"_No_ jewellery on male students! It says very clearly in the school rule-book sent out to every potential applicant to this fine school."

"But _sensei_, it's a _**cross**_- a symbol of my religion!" Atemu lied smoothly, sounding outraged. There was no way he would risk being separated from his most prized possession. It was _not_ going to happen.

The teacher's eyes bulged at the challenge to her authority. _'I don't care __**what**__ that thing's for, or __**how**__ high he scored on the entrance exams, that boy isn't going to get away with flouting the school rules and answering back on top of it!'_ she thought self-righteously.

"I see a Gothic style faux-cross, not a crucifix, Takimura-_**kun**_. A crucifix you would _perhaps_ have gotten away with." she said deliberately placing emphasis on the diminutive suffix to point out her superior status. "_Off,_ and I'll be keeping it till the end of term." she said firmly, smugly holding out her hand for the offending object.

"With all due respect, _sensei_…" Atemu started, also placing emphasis on the honorific as though to remind the woman that yes, he knew his place _thank you_ very much, and he knew that this whole thing was just a power trip because of the way he'd had the bravado to come into her classroom on his first day.

"Might I borrow Yami-chan for a moment please, Haruko-sensei?" came a soft and articulate masculine voice from the doorway.

"Who are _you_, if I may ask? You aren't his guardian, nor are you a teacher, and I'm afraid I can't just let you take him out of my class without proper authority, Mr…" said the teacher weakly, staring at the tall man who seemed not long out of his teens, wearing a foreign style of suit… Or, more accurately she was staring at the strange aqua-coloured hair that fell to his ankles, tied three-quarters down with a simple ivory coloured clasp which seemed only to serve to complete the oddly dignified air surrounding the man.

Whispers were moving through the sunny classroom, students (both male and female) looking with eager interest at the newcomer's exotic good looks.

"What're the odds," whispered a female student with shoulder length brown hair to her neighbour. "…that there could be _three_ such sexy guys coming into this classroom in such a short amount of time?" Her neighbour nodded fervently, despite being a male (albeit one with long black hair)

The man nodded gravely. "You may call me Dartz, Haruko-sensei. It is not necessary for an honorific, I always despised formality in my own country." he said with a secret smile. He reached into a pocket on the navy blue Victorian-style waistcoat he wore over a white lawn shirt and dark slacks, extracting a slightly crumpled note. "If it is not possible, then I fully understand. However, could I give him this?" he asked in a voice that only revealed a hint of a lilting accent.

"This is highly irregular…" She trailed off as hypnotic-seeming golden eyes caught her own brown ones. With a small sigh, she said; "But I'll let it slide… just this once."

Atemu stood and strode across to the man whose blue wings (that could barely fit through the doorway as he entered, though they were furled.) were twitching. The other reached out the hand holding the paper and firmly pressed it into Atemu's hand, boring into Atemu's ruby orbs with his intense gold ones, as though desperate to communicate something important.

With a small nod, the aqua-haired man said; "I thank you, Haruko-sensei." with an kiss to her hand that recalled habits of a much older time before turning on his heel and swiftly exiting the classroom to sighs from the teenagers in the room (and an unconscious one from the teacher.)

Atemu shook his head at the strange behaviour of the angel he now considered a friend and made his way back to his seat and covertly unfolding the letter (for that is what it was) and swiftly reading it.

He went white as a sheet and the letter fluttered from his hand.

**---------------------------------------------**

Dartz strode through the halls grimly, the long Victorian style coat he wore fluttering with each stride of his long legs. He was so deeply immersed in thought that he nearly ran over a familiar brown-haired individual.

The other stopped. "Fancy meeting _you_ again, of all the people. Still wearing those fake wings I see." the other male said in a slightly amused tone of voice, long slender finger tapping the arch of the blue-feathered limb.

The angel almost jumped out of his skin at the sensation that originated from the simple contact. "Father, Son and Holy Spirit! Don't do that again!" he gasped.

"What? I just tapped your 'wing'." The brunette reached out for a second time.

Before his hand could make contact however, Dartz caught his wrist. "It is a very intimate thing to touch an angel's wings, and therefore is only done within a family… or between lovers. _Never_ touch someone's wings without their permission, Seto-kun." he warned, before the sensation from before made a comeback and he tried to order his fingers to release the other's wrist, but they refused to obey this silent command.

"I don't know how you know who I am, foreign as you so obviously are but whoever _you_ are, you would do well to let me go." Seto snapped, ice-blue eyes flashing dangerously as his mask of polite amicability dropped.

Caught up by instincts long slumbering, the ancient angel pushed the younger mortal up against the wall, pinning his arms firmly to the wall and bringing his glamour-covered wings to shield them from sight as he did so.

"Young one do _not_ push your luck." he heard himself hiss. Inwardly surprised at the sudden loss of control over his body, the angel could only watch as his body leaned into the chestnut-haired teen, his lips right next to his ear. "My name, 'Ryuu no Shonen' (1.) is Dartz. And _you_ would do well to remember it- and your manners also." he whispered into Seto's ear in a smooth, low-pitched voice.

The mortal shivered at the strange, alien feeling racing through him at the intimate warmth of the other's breath on his ear before he drew himself up to his full height. "What the _hell_ are you playing at, you madman?" he demanded coldly. "Let me _go_ and I might not call the police on you." he ordered, struggling slightly.

Blinking, Dartz realised he had control over himself once more and immediately released the other, wings settling into their usual furled state.

"I… apologise, _most_ fervently…" he murmured distractedly, staring at his hands in shock.

"What on Earth did you say? I'm afraid I don't understand whatever language you just spoke."

The aqua-haired angel looked up, warm golden eyes meeting cold blue. Realising he had not spoken in Japanese, or even the tongue he commonly spoke among his angelic brethren, but completely by accident in the language of his long dead culture, he groaned. "I apologise. I… don't know what came over me." he repeated, though this time in the proper Japanese.

Seto raised an eyebrow. "I'm _sure_." He said disdainfully. Brow creasing, he asked; "Out of sheer curiosity, what language_were_ you speaking? Or was it just nonsensical babbling, because out of need, I am familiar with a wide array of foreign languages and I don't believe I've heard anything like it before."

In this, he was similar to his current companion, for an interesting topic could easily distract the both of them, geniuses though they were, unless they were focusing on a single task.

With Seto Kaiba, the running of his company kept this tendency to a bare minimum, as it did not allow for much free time for this habit, and Dartz had his librarian's duties occupying much of his days (over the years, books exposed to the power contained in Heaven tended to gain a life of their own, not mentioning the necessary renewing of the wards...)

Dartz was about to answer when he noticed a heat haze shimmer behind the young man in front of him and he narrowed his eyes. Focusing on the spot lurking in the shadow cast by the white hallway wall for a brief second he recognised what he saw and, widening his eyes in silent shock he grabbed the mortal's wrist and pulled him towards his chest, pinning him to the wall and shielding his fragile mortal form with his own (somewhat more resilient) body just as the arc of demonic fire ripped through the deserted hall.

"What the _hell_ was that?" gasped Seto in shock.

Wincing as the burning energy washed over his back and sensitive wings, not having had time to weave more than the most basic of shields, he lifted grim golden orbs to Seto. "When I let you go, run and do it fast. Find Atemu and tell him that demons are present, and you both need to get into contact with Marik."

"What about you? You can't stay here, that… laser or whatever it was; was aimed to kill!"

"I know."

"Then why in God's name aren't you going to run as well?"

"Because it is a demon, and it will do almost anything to maim or kill an angel. Therefore, if I stay, it will not follow you." reasoned Dartz.

"You crazy idiot, you can't just stay and get yourself killed! Besides, there's no such thing as…"

"I am not mad and now is _not_ the time for your denial." Dartz remarked mildly, ignoring the pain through long years of practice. He felt the burning suddenly subside and immediately thrust the teen down the hall, turning to face the demon. "Trust me and listen to what I'm saying! Run!"

Through some miracle that Dartz was not about to question, no more mortals had come out of the rooms adjoining the hall, or indeed, seemed to have noticed the battle about to take place.

"Dartz!"

"_**Now**_, Seto. I will be fine." said angel replied, not removing his wary gaze from the demon.

For once, Kaiba Seto listened to someone else's advice- and obeyed. He ran, trying to remember where his cousin had class now, ignoring and discarding the oddly guilty feeling urging him to return and help the… strange man with those fake blue wings.

**---------------------------------------------**

"Didn't he have that ogre… Haruko for his foreign language class?" Seto huffed aloud. Rounding the corner of the hall he was just in time to hear;

"And until you feel better, stay at the nurse's office Takimura-kun."

A familiar head of spiky tricoloured hair left the classroom just in front of him. Quashing the relief that his cousin was _here_, and he could finally talk to him as he'd meant to when the teacher had assigned Atemu the seat in front of him, he called out;

"Atemu! Thank God. Listen, you may not remember me, but I'm your…"

"Cousin Seto, yes I remember. Look, can we catch up some other time?" Absently the brunette noted the abnormal paleness of his cousin's usually radiantly tanned face before interrupting.

"There's really no time at all, Atemu. Look, there's a madman named Dartz wearing those terribly fake blue wings wandering the halls, and he said to tell you that there was a demon and that we need to call Marik or someone…"

"Demons?"

"Yes, that's what he said; now if you don't mind, I just left him to fight some idiot who was shooting laser beams at us. I can't just leave the crazy man to destroy the History wing." snapped Seto.

"If there are demons, we have to go, Seto. Dartz is an angel; he's perfectly capable of handling this on his own."

The annoyed brown-haired teen threw his hands up in the air. "Wearing costume wings does _not_ make him an angel, damn it!"

With that he swiftly headed back the way he came.

"Seto!" Atemu cursed, before whipping his phone from his pocket and dialling as he ran after his cousin, unable to quite catch up- his cousin had longer legs than he did, and was able therefore to get a bit further with each stride.

**---------------------------------------------**

Dartz grimaced. _'Of all the times to not have a damn weapon…'_ he thought irritably, swearing uncharacteristically as he dodged a swipe from the demon's sword (It had abandoned magical attacks as they took too long to be ready to throw at the angel)

The sharply honed blade twisted back, slashing a thin lock of hair from the ends of his long aqua mane as he swiftly sidestepped. _'Oh well, at least it's not my head he removed…'_ he rationalised, racking his mind for an offensive tactic.

There was nothing he could feasibly use for a weapon- no furniture he might break (not that it would have stood up to the metal of the sword, but it would've been _something_.) and no convenient metal bars hanging from the wall. There were strange things on the ceiling turning around with metal blades, and he was tempted for a moment, but they were powered by something he _knew_ was not wise to mess with. Electricity or something, he believed.

That left a magical assault.

Angels had little in the way of offensive magic, being peacemakers by design they had other powers instead. There was, however one magical art that he could use to his advantage in this situation.

Even if he hated using it.

He opened his mouth and began to sing an old lullaby in his original language- one he had once sung to his daughter.

The demon faltered. A lower level imp that was no more than a foot soldier in the Unholy Army at_ best_ could not hope to ignore completely the beautiful voice of a Heaven-bound angel.

The soothing baritone voice crooned in a long-forgotten, oddly musical tongue that plucked at one's very heart, and the demon lowered the sword, blinking sleepily. All of a sudden, it shook its head and lunged with the sword. It would've caught the apparently unsuspecting angel in the chest had a certain person not put their body in the way.

**---------------------------------------------**

Glancing across the mortal's shoulder-bone rather than striking home in soft flesh as was the original intention, the sword jarred, breaking the demon's grip. Not missing a beat, though his gold-hued eyes were frantic, Dartz completed the song, sending the creature into a deep slumber.

"_Seto you complete and utter imbecile_!! What _**possessed**_ you?!" yelled a furious Dartz, moving to grab the mortal by his upper arms and resisting the urge to shake him till his teeth rattled.

"You saved me… before, from the laser. I owed you. Now we're even." gasped the teen, almost falling to his knees. Damn that _hurt_!

The angel sighed, not seeming to notice as he took all the other's weight. "Your intentions were good, but when angels sing, the song creates a weak barrier. My wound wouldn't have been worse than yours and it would've healed quicker." he told the other, allowing him to sit, kneeling beside him and easily ripping the slash in the material of his jacket and shirt further apart and checking the cut. "I can heal this later, right at the moment we've got to move. Ah, Yami. Did you get through to Marik?" he asked.

"What happened to Seto?" Atemu asked with rather less shock and nausea at the visibly scratched bone through the blood currently dripping down to pool on the shiny linoleum floor than he would've experienced if he hadn't seen Bakura's pre-treatment back.

"He took the demon's sword across his back instead of letting it hurt me. Did you get through?"

"Seto you _idiot_." Atemu sighed. "He's always been like that- he'd rather _he_ got hurt than someone he feels sorry for. Did that sorta thing for me when we were kids. And I did get through; Marik said he'd be here soon. I didn't want to interrupt his mourning though… He sounded so distant… It's not like him. Anyway, we should barricade ourselves into an empty classroom, it'd offer a bit more protection." he finished thoughtfully.

"Good idea. Can you walk Seto-kun?" asked Dartz.

"It's my shoulder that's hurt, not my leg." said teen snapped testily, face pale as he stood, swaying slightly as he did so.

Dartz studied him a minute before the other stumbled. "Accepting help does not make you weak, you know." He said mildly, sighing as he caught him, looping the brown-haired mortal's arm around his neck and supporting the teen's weight.

He was reluctant to actually _carry_ him, despite the injury on Seto's shoulder because a.) Seto was proud and would not let him without kicking up a fight

b.) Even if Seto _did_ let him carry him, he wasn't entirely sure he would be able to ignore the sensations the teen's closeness seemed to provoke.

It was annoying enough as it was- he could only imagine how much worse it would be if the other was _that_ close- and with demons wandering about he couldn't risk losing focus.

"Thanks." Seto said grudgingly.

"Come on, the closest room's the Science labs. They should be empty; there are no Science-y subjects on Wednesdays."

As quickly as they could, the three of them got to the room. Their luck held just enough for them to get there, and to discover that it was empty. Unfortunately however, their lucky streak ended there.

"Damn it, it's locked!" Atemu cursed.

"What is that raised rectangle for?" asked the ancient angel curiously, sidetracked somewhat at the prospect of something new to add to his library, nodding towards the odd raised lump that sat on the plain cream wall.

"It's a password-panel for the security and lock. It's all run off a computer system nowadays." Atemu said absently.

"Oh_here_." Seto said irritably, reaching impossibly long fingers to the keypad, quickly bypassing security and hacking the lock open. The whole process took less than a minute, and a beep sounded before he said; "Try this time."

Sure enough, this time when Atemu tried to push the handle, the door swung smoothly inward.

"Since when have you been a hacker, Seto?" asked an awed Atemu.

"I'm the CEO of a multi-billion dollar gaming company with a not inconsiderable branch in the IT industry. I picked up some things along the way."

Dartz's eyes were registering polite confusion. "I barely understood any of that; some of the terms you used were most strange. Therefore when this is over I will be asking for your help re-writing our books on the Mortal Realm… You humans change so _quickly_ in sixty years…" muttered the blue-winged angel, carefully moving into the room and helping Seto to a seat, ignoring the rolled eyes as he did so.

"That's how old you are?" asked Atemu, shutting the door and grabbing a pen from the front table, jammed it into the panel on that side of the door, causing the thing to spark and smoke slightly.

"You'll have to remove this whole shirt, Seto… Hm? Oh, no I'm much older than that. I'm older than Bakura and he's around three or four thousand and something years old… Or was it five…?" the aqua haired angel said vaguely, helping Seto to unbutton his shirt.

"Three or four thousand and something years old? That's just impossible, are you completely crazy?"

Dartz gave him a Look. "It most certainly is not. Don't talk about what you don't understand, you only show your ignorance, child." he said, wings rustling in a subconscious expression of irritation. Honestly, his father had reached the respectable age of three thousand and fifty-five before he'd died. And that was _before_ he'd moved on.

The brunette rolled his eyes. "I suppose the next thing'll be that you were a Pharaoh of Egypt too."

"I watched the first Pharaoh rise to his throne, boy. I am older than you could imagine, and I may have _extraordinary_ patience, but you are testing it."

Now his wings were fluttering as though they wanted nothing more than to carry him into flight.

"How… do you make them do that? The animatronics chip must've been expensive…" said Seto, distracted from his angry tirade about how_impossible_ that was by the possibilities of such technology.

"What_are_ you talking about?"

"Those false wings of yours- how do you make them move? And what company made the chips for them?"

Dartz tilted his head to the side, confused. He had no clue what the younger male was talking about. _'Animatoronix?'_ he wondered.

Atemu chuckled. "He thinks your wings are fake- and he wants to know how you make them move."

"I understood _that_, Yami. I just do not know what a…_animatoronix_ is. And, I fail to see what _chips_ have to do with anything- aren't they a sort of food now days?"

Seto had the indecency to give a laugh at the angel's mangled pronunciation of the word.

"Oh leave him alone, Seto. I'll explain later." Atemu said, shooting a glare at his cousin.

"So." Seto said, stifling laughter. "How _do_ you make them move? It's obvious you haven't a clue what animatronics is, so what is moving them then, hm?"

"I _could_ give you a lesson on angelic anatomy, but I'm afraid we just_haven't_ the time." Dartz replied tartly, to a chuckle from the third male in the room.

'_Really, after being attacked by a __**demon**__ and seeing me exhibit my power; one would think such an obviously intelligent person would get the idea.'_

**---------------------------------------------**

Atemu's phone rang, startling them with its loud and cheery ring-tone. He picked up.

"Hello? Oh, Marik. Yes, Science Lab three. Dartz and Seto. No, I don't know how many demons… Bakura is _not_ moving from that damn bed!... Hello? Hello?!" He clicked it off. "He hung up on me!" he said indignantly.

"He's hurting and angry. Be patient- he won't be back to normal for some time yet. In his own way, he cared about Malik just as much as Bakura does about you." Dartz said softly as he examined the long wound that had scored into the bone on the chestnut-haired male's shoulder.

"That's going to need stitches…" the mortal winced, unintentionally cutting off Atemu's oncoming tirade about exactly how much Bakura cared considering how much contact he'd had with Atemu lately.

"No it won't. If I'm careful, you won't even scar." corrected Dartz, unconsciously nibbling his lower lip as he gently brought the edges of the angry wound together.

Seto winced. "You're no doctor- well, maybe a _mad_ one…"

"No, I am no physician. If, however you had been _listening_, I told you. I'm an angel." Dartz chastised, ignoring the 'mad' jibe.

While the lips of the wound were closed, he quickly held his slightly bloody pale hands over said wound. Concentrating, he pulled the energy required to his hands and with the ease of long practice he pooled it into the '_blankness_' that signified an injury.

"Not too much…" he muttered quietly to himself, eyes closing as hair fell into his face, frowning slightly. "…not enough time for a complete healing… just enough to fix that scratch in the bone… perhaps fix the torn muscle and… protect from infection…"

The scratch on the shoulder bone disappeared and muscle re-knitted, before fresh scabbing formed, giving the gash the appearance of a weeks-old injury rather than one just inflicted.

"It's just a quick patch; I'll finish it when we get to safety." Dartz said quietly, brushing a slightly sweaty lock of hair from his golden eyes. Even that much of a healing on a wound inflicted by a hell-blade took energy.

"What the… _how_ did you do that?" demanded Seto, twisting his head around in an effort to see what the other had done. "It doesn't even twinge!"

"He _did_tell you he was an angel, Seto." Atemu pointed out amusedly.

"But there's…"

"…No such thing. Dearest cousin, there is much you don't understand." Atemu said solemnly.

The brown-haired teen merely gave his younger cousin a dirty look.

**---------------------------------------------**

There was a slight tap at the second-story window, and Seto jumped to see a man with black wings fluttering outside the window with a grim face.

Swiftly Atemu unlatched and threw open the window, and the black winged male entered, a second male (also bearing the black-feathered appendages.) following him through the now-open window. The second one seemed… familiar.

As his younger cousin saw the second male, his face darkened like a thundercloud. "Akefia Bakura, what in the name of all that's holy are you doing out of bed?!" he said sternly, eyes glinting dangerously.

"You are not my nursemaid, Yami Atemu. I am well enough for this."

That was when it clicked. The second man… _was the new history teacher_. Seto blinked in disbelief, before muttering; " I must be seeing things- our History teacher couldn't have just _flown_ into this _second story_ room. And he definitely _could not_ have just called my cousin by his first name. That man with that long blue hair must've hit me harder than I'd thought…"

Ignoring this comment, the first male (with dark bronzed skin and gravity-defying spiked sandy-blonde hair) announced in voice that sounded oddly hoarse (almost as though he'd been…_crying_ or something) "Before you yell at me, the stubborn bastard decided this on his own. I had nothing to do with it." He said this whole statement with absolutely no inflection whatsoever- he seemed _empty_. "Who will be carrying whom?"

"Carrying?" Seto inquired. "Well, it would logically follow that the strongest of you three would carry _me_- if you're injured Sensei, than obviously you're out, and I think the other one'd have too much trouble with me, he obviously needs all the strength he can get to get off the ground with that hair. I suppose that would leave, through process of elimination, _you_, Dartz." he said rationally.

He had long since accepted that this must be a delusion (courtesy of a meeting with a wall, thanks to a certain blue-haired, cat-eyed individual with a fetish for fake wings) So, in his mind, (seeing as it was all an illusion from his mind) there was no reason whatsoever not to go along with it all. It'd all go away eventually anyway.

"That's a sudden about-face. Not three minutes ago you were fervently denying that angels existed. Or anything mystical for that matter." noted Dartz with an inscrutable expression.

"Oh, you're all a delusion anyway, I've just realised. You must've knocked me into that wall harder than I'd thought. When I wake up, I'm seriously considering suing you." Seto explained serenely, folding his arms across his head and nodding with a satisfied smirk on his face.

Dartz raised a slim aqua eyebrow. "You're a true sceptic aren't you?" he said, giving an exasperated chuckle. "Well, in Bakura's case you're right- he can't carry you. I shall carry you then, if that's what you'd prefer."

"Marik will have to carry Atemu." the history-teacher said in a way that he could only interpret as being reluctant. Which seemed… _odd _if you asked Seto. "I do not wish to open these wounds again."

"I _still_ say you shouldn't even have gotten out of the bed…" muttered a sullen-eyed Atemu.

"Let's go then." the dead-eyed one said impatiently, scooping Atemu up with not so much as a 'by-your-leave' and taking off through the window. Seto could've sworn he saw something in the white-haired male's eerie blood-red eyes flash, but he couldn't be sure as the man took off straight after the other dark-winged man.

Dartz was a little more polite; "If you don't mind?" he asked, holding out his hand with a slight flourish reminiscent of old-world manners.

Rolling his eyes at the theatrical-seeming effort, Seto took the proffered hand.

"It _was_ my idea." he said, by way of acquiesance. Before he knew it, the slightly taller man had effortlessly swept Seto (who was tall for his age, indeed taller than most adults, and though being slender, he was_not_ light.) into a bridal-style hold. He felt the muscles across the back of the man holding him flex before the great blue wings beat once, twice and launched them into the sky.

Seto had never been afraid of heights (in fact, was licensed to fly) and the view from that height _was_ spectacular….

Really, you couldn't blame him for leaning to see better…

"Don't_do_ that! I nearly dropped you!" exclaimed the blue-winged angel, pulling the mortal in his arms closer, preferring to deal with the odd sensation of this person's body being in close contact with his own rather than dropping him from such a height.

"I apologise." Seto said hesitantly. He was not the sort of person to apologise, but nor was he one to refuse to admit fault. He shouldn't have been so reckless so high up in the air. "That was… foolish of me." he admitted, palms flat against the other male's chest.

"Perhaps it would afford more security if you were to hold onto me as well." Dartz added reluctantly as an afterthought.

Seeing the logic in this idea, the brunette tentatively put his arms around Dartz's neck, frowning slightly. It was awkward, (even if this was all just a delusion) to perform such an intimate-seeming gesture when he barely knew the other.

It was, however, strangely less awkward than he would've thought.

**---------------------------------------------**

Seto looked over at his cousin out of boredom (Flying was all well and good, but he would've thought his subconscious would've made the length of flight shorter.) and was perversely pleased to see that he was doing better than his young cousin.

The other teen appeared to be practically strangling the dark-winged Marik, and his face was buried in the man's neck (much to said man's discomfort)

"It would appear my cousin does not care for flying." he said, turning his head back to Dartz with a small smirk.

"So it would seem." answered the other distractedly.

"What's wrong? Are we being followed?" asked the young man, narrowing his eyes and craning his neck to try and see around them.

"Nothing like _that_, young one." assured the angel absently.

"Don't call me that, I am not a child, and I do not appreciate being treated like one." retorted Seto.

"Mm."

"Are you even _listening_ to me?" Seto asked indignantly, tapping the angel's shoulder.

When Dartz made no reply, Seto's face settled into the familiar 'listen-to-me-_now-_if-you-value-your-health' glare that had been known to intimidate even the most powerful tycoons into listening and accepting his proposals, though he was only a seventeen year old. He opened his mouth to rouse at the angel currently ignoring him, but before he could start, the white-haired man interrupted.

"I wouldn't bother, Seto. When he's silent like that, you could poke him with a stick and not get a reaction." the dark-winged history teacher advised, having noticed the dangerous look on his Atemu's cousin. "I believe that's how he manages to put up with all those pompous angels in the Upper Quarter."

Said teen shook his head, closing his eyes wearily and pinching the bridge of his nose. _'I __**really**__ need to wake up- soon, before I lose my remaining sanity.'_ he thought, unconsciously resting his head in the crook of the aqua-haired man's shoulder as he allowed his caffeine-sapped body to rest.

**---------------------------------------------**

When the blue-winged man had had enough of what was going on, an inherent ability common to his people allowed him to retreat back. He was still vaguely aware of what was going on, but automatically discarded what was not of immediate importance. That was (as Bakura theorised) how he put up with the 'pompous angels' he had to work with every so often. However, what he was doing now was rather different.

An ingrained drill, the purpose was to segment one's memories and divide it into increasingly smaller parts until one could successfully identify the cause of a particular bother. As he'd often been told,

'_We observe everything- every detail. If something is bothering your conscious, your sub-conscious has noted something of importance, whether it be helpful or harmful. It is merely a matter of successfully finding and identifying it.'_

The one-time royal delved through his memory that extended over so many years he'd begun to lose count for the source of the jiggling feeling that he knew why this discomforting feeling had caused his lamentable slip into instincts that were a legacy of his ancient heritage. Usually he had absolute control over himself, but…

The only other time that this had occurred to him had been when he was still alive and his culture was flourishing- at its peak. That time, the woman whom had triggered these damnable impulses had ended up his wife.

Sorting through, quickly discarding hazy memories of babyhood, he lingered over several of the more recent memories. Sensing he was nearing the source, he hurriedly ran through and he found a single memory.

**---------------------------------------------**

_The young man looked much the same as he did now, except something in those gold eyes was missing, giving away the youth of the aqua-haired male currently running a frustrated hand through waist-length hair._

"_I don't understand! Father, I have impeccable control over myself, even you have remarked upon it, but around __**her**__…" He spat the word disgustedly. "I completely lose it! I act like an __**animal**__for Hekate's (2.) sake!" He spread his hands imploringly. "It is driving me to lose sleep! __**She**__ drives me mad- we can't speak more than minutes together without that all-knowing attitude making me wish to scream in frustration! And yet, just yesterday, because of those damned instincts that you tell me are 'quite natural' I __**pinned**__ her to the wall and mauled her!" 'Not that she'd seemed to mind', he added mentally._

"_Mauled?"_

"_I… I __**kissed**__ her father! Kissed __**her**__!" he said in an aggrieved voice. He paced on the beautifully paved floor, the taller man with dark blue hair that reached the floor and similar golden eyes (currently twinkling in amusement) sitting atop the raised dais with a mischievous smile tugging at the corners of his mouth at his son's very teenage angst._

"_Please, father, you are much older than I, surely you can help with what's happening to me!" he pleaded, stopping in the middle of his pacing._

_The older man shook his head, the smile coming into full bloom. "Something in her calls to you."_

"_But__**everything**__ about her drives me mad!" objected the younger version of Dartz._

"_Because you are not yet matured enough for this- you are only two hundred and sixty years old. You will understand more as you mature. It was the same with your mother and I- she also drove me up the wall, both before and during the time my instincts were activated. Even then, I was five-hundred and sixteen before we were able to safely be in the same room."_

"_But-"_

_His father held up a hand. "My dear boy, be patient. Never has anyone been caused to be drawn to someone any less than perfect for them. It'll work out just __**fine**__."_

**---------------------------------------------**

Pulling from the memory, he was shaken. Was _that_ what this was? It was a natural urge of his people- it had drawn every member of his race to the perfect complement of themselves, at least, it _had- _until all except those who'd become angels were wiped out. He did admit, this felt similar, but what was worrying to him was that he hadn't felt fire at every touch from _her_, and the one who was causing it was a seventeen year old male!

And, was it him or had the feeling suddenly intensified since he'd come out of the memory?

He looked down slightly to notice the mortal had fallen asleep against him, head resting in the crook of his neck, forehead pressed to the side of his neck, his warm breath ghosting over his collarbone.

Inwardly he cursed as he felt the heat from the unknowing, innocently sleeping mortal's touch intensify, racing through his body.

To distract himself, he began to try to slip into the trance-like state that was his right of heritage, but he found himself unable to concentrate long enough to successfully enter it without being distracted again by a tendril of chestnut hair tickling his cheek, or a tiny shift that pressed soft warm skin to his neck. _'Was Atemu this distracting to Bakura?' _he wondered. Making a swift decision he began to meticulously detail every little trait that he'd discovered so far that Seto Kaiba possessed that drove him to deep annoyance in the hopes that it would distract him from the sensation. Anything to prevent the others from seeing his loss of composure- he didn't want them knowing something was going on.

1. He was so sceptical of anything mystic that he thought this whole thing was a delusion.

2. Too intelligent for his own good- and he _knew it_. (Dartz was blissfully unaware that many of his own friends also described _him_ that way…)

3. He was arrogant- and much too used to being superior. (_'You'd have to rectify his expectation of superiority…' _advised the instincts.)

4. That porcelain skin was _far_ too nice against his- really, it should be a crime.

5. Those proud sapphire eyes that simply _screamed_ defiance… (_'Imagine what __**else**__ they could scream…'_ hinted the instincts again)

Not liking the… suggestive turn the list had taken, he cut his subconscious off, mid-thought, shaking his head in despair.

"There it is- everyone keep an eye out, if they're going to ambush us it will be here, within sight of safety, expecting us to let our guards down." called Bakura.

Closing his golden eyes, Dartz sent a grateful thanks to the Lord for taking pity on his plight.

* * *

(1.) Ryuu no Shonen- Literally translated, means Dragon Boy or Boy Dragon. 

(2.) Different version of spelling for Hecate- the Greek goddess of witchcraft. I've seen this spelling associated with the 'Atlantean' society in many mythology books so... XD

Posting this at 12.30AM so no footnote! XD

Please review!

Smile:D

Ireina


	7. The Infuriating Innocence of Atemu

******When Angels Cry 7- The Infuriating Innocence of Atemu  
**

* * *

Yaoi/shonen-ai. If you don't like, please don't read. Flames will be extinguished with great prejudice due to the fact that it is bushfire season and I hate bushfires. Many Australians do. 

**---------------------------------------------**

Rated for bloody descriptions of battle, torture and later limes. (You know I can't resist!) Considering a lemon in due time... ;)

**---------------------------------------------**

Dedicated to my reviewers!

Nusku

Cavialover

YugiTheDarkPharaoh

Shadow Cat17

Basima

Shadow over Egypt

I meant to have this out on Christmas, but things happened (family stuff) and I didn't get around to typing it till today (though I had the hand-written version ready before Christmas.) Hope you all had a lovely Christmas and best wishes for the New Year!

Oh, and it seems that I've created a whole new shipping! In collaboration with several of my readers (Basima and Shadow over Egypt) we've made a name for this shipping (and I'm definitely putting it on my 'to-write' list!)

Aquashipping!

Aqua, for Dartz's hair, and also another word for blue, thus tying in Kaiba's eyes! \o/ The other relevant names were already taken- Dragonshipping's Yami/Joey and Oceanshipping was taken by Yu-Gi-Oh GX... --;

Enjoy the chapter

:D

Ireina

* * *

_ What hurts the most  
Is being so close  
And having so much to say  
And watching you walk away_

_  
_ -What Hurts the Most- Rascal Flatts

******---------------------------------------------**_  
_

"The demon we sent in was uncovered, Lady."

"What? How?" A slight frown creased coldly elegant features and the Lady's wings gave a slight twitch, the only signs of her concern. That demon had been supposed to keep an eye on the boy's movements and had been sent in as soon as the golden tenshi had been assassinated- the only way she could foresee the demon being uncovered within mere hours was…

"Another angel was present, Milady…" The angel at her feet gulped. "Not one of yours though. The demon… well, it was only a lower-level imp, and well… It couldn't resist the blood-lust."

'A regrettable trait.' she thought to herself with an annoyed sigh. All demons possessed the instinct to attack, maim and kill any angel they sensed in any way, save the higher-level demons. It was the reason She gave her orders only directly to these higher-ranking ones and left them to pass on her orders to the imps and such. Of course she could easily just destroy the imps if they attacked her, but frankly that was a waste of energy.

"Do we know this angels identity? We must identify and weed out any possibility of being detected before we are powerful enough to reveal ourselves."

"No, Milady." The frown on her face deepened. "But the demon did manage to cut off a lock of their hair… When the Retrieval group was sent in to remove the imp, one of ours managed to collect it without being seen."

She sat forward at that. "Bring it to me." she ordered, eyes glinting. Soon she would know just who had been defying the Treaty and setting foot in the Mortal Realm without due process- and possibly eliminate another threat. And if it was who she thought it was…

"As you wish, Lady." The male angel bowed, exiting the surprisingly bright and tastefully decorated room.

**---------------------------------------------**

Softly three pairs of feet lightly touched the ground, Marik unceremoniously dumping his burden on the ground in front of him with a thump (effortlessly removing Atemu's arms from around his neck in the process)

"_Itai!_" yelped the dark-skinned teen. Bakura twitched as he fought the reflexive urge to check on his charge, instead closing his eyes and turning his head slightly down, feeling the bite of nail into flesh as he clenched his fist.

This commotion only served to emphasize Seto's great annoyance/distraction to Dartz, for the mortal only tightened his grip and slumbered on, nuzzling closer to the blue-winged angel, whose face gained a barely noticeable tint of rose.

"Marik! Dammit, there was no need for that!" yelled Atemu, standing with a wince before muttering under his breath; "This is _why_ I hate flying…"

"Whatever. We should go inside rather than standing around out here and waiting to be attacked." dead-panned Marik, unlocking the door before closing his eyes as a small glow covered the door-handle and it opened, the spell holding it locked dissolving at his touch.

Shooting a glare at the dark angel with the spiky sandy hair Atemu nodded reluctantly, before following the others over the threshold.

**---------------------------------------------**

"Some new rules for you- I want you and the sleeping one to stay out of that room. Understand?" ordered Marik.

Atemu bristled combatively. "Why?" he challenged, not liking just being _ordered_ to do something for no apparent reason.

A slender white hand was laid on his shoulder. "Malik's… in there." Bakura said, leaning down to his hear and whispering so the other black-winged man couldn't hear him.

Without realising it, Atemu shivered at the tickling sensation. Noticing this, Bakura cursed his impulse that had brought him so close to the mortal, removing his hand and forcing himself to step back. _'If I don't keep that under control, he'll be hurt even more if he realises what his reactions mean.'_ he thought, referring to the desire to be near the younger male.

"That's right… He… hasn't been buried yet?" Atemu asked automatically turning to Bakura, apparently unnoticing of the (now black-winged) angel's hurried retreat.

"He was only brought back here an hour or so ago. He's not long… well _departed_." (1) Bakura replied in a clipped tone.

"The letter didn't mention when…" Atemu's eyes widened as an idea occurred to him. He knew angels had a phenomenal healing capacity. He also knew that _humans_ could be revived even if clinically dead soon after the fact… "If it was only that long then… being an _angel_… should mean the window of time to resuscitate him would be larger…" He grabbed Bakura's pale hands in his caramel-hued ones. "I need to wake up Seto!" he exclaimed before tugging Bakura after him as he followed the path Dartz had taken. "Even if he's a Divine Being we won't have long before it's impossible to revive him…" he told himself under his breath.

Bakura shook his head to clear it of the daze the spontaneous contact with Atemu had induced and, (once his mouth caught up to his brain) he asked; "Wait, _what_? Revive? You mean you think you can…"

"Maybe, if we hurry! But I'll need Seto's help, he's always been a genius of some kind, he'll have a vague idea what we need to do."

Bakura again shook his head disbelievingly and followed the younger mortal (though it was not as though the other had given him a real choice in the matter) If, _if_ they could revive Malik it would mean so much to Marik- the gold-winged tenshi's death had hit the fallen one hard- Bakura would never have picked those two for a potential couple but…

Malik's revival wouldn't just mean a lot to Marik either. Malik had been his closest if not his only friend for so many years now, and the angel had struck up a close friendship with Ryou and Dartz also.

**---------------------------------------------**

The winged man was startled out of his musings when Atemu called out; "Seto?! Where are… _Dartz_? What the…" the mortal gasped, and Bakura tried vainly to stifle his laughter at the strange and yet amusing sight in front of him.

The poor man was trying to remove a certain brunette's arm from his neck (without causing damage) with a furious glare and spots of bright red blooming on his normally pale (though not white as Bakura's) cheeks. He was muttering under his breath, switching between furious orders to let him go in Japanese and what sounded suspiciously like cursing judging by the tone of his voice in a strange language that neither Bakura (nor Atemu, judging from his face) understood.

"_Let me **go** you utterly irritating mortal!"_ he suddenly yelled in Japanese, several strands of hair coming loose from their clasp as he stomped his foot in an uncharacteristically childish fashion.

Clamping his fist to his mouth in order to stifle his amusement at the usually lofty and complacent Dartz losing his temper in such a spectacular fashion, Atemu said; "You er… let him fall asleep. Didn't you?"

Dartz turned towards the doorway, an utterly evil expression on his face. "Oh _no_, Yami, he's holding me close to him because he just can't _resist_ my **_charms_**." snapped the frazzled (and not a little embarrassed) man with the blue wings currently twitching violently from sheer annoyance.

"That… _ha-ha_… used to be a habit of his." giggled Atemu. "You'll have to wake him up or he won't let you go."

"What do you think I've been trying to do?!" Dartz said, following his words with another half-hearted attempt to make the other release him, letting out several words that Bakura had a hunch he should be grateful Atemu couldn't understand.

"You… _oh god!_ were trying to make him let… _ha-ha! _you go, not _wake _him." corrected Atemu, laughing through his entire statement.

Dartz blinked, looking down at the obstinately clinging sleeper around his neck. "If all my yelling did not cause him to awaken, what will prove effective?" he asked wearily, a note of curiosity permeating his voice.

At this Atemu failed to keep himself from laughing for a good five minutes. Dartz and Bakura failed to see what was so funny about Dartz's statement until Atemu saw fit to clarify.

"The only thing that woke him up when we were young... was Aunt giving him a wake-up kiss. I don't know… whether or not it'll still work, you being well, _you_ and not Aunt…" he told them with a heavily amused face, the odd chuckle slipping out every now and then as he spoke.

Dartz gave him an affronted look of utter horror. "Are you telling me I'm supposed to _kiss_ him awake?" he demanded.

"It'd wake _me _up- though only to kick your ass." smirked Bakura, laughing at the death-glare he received from his friend.

Atemu gave a slight nod, too busy trying not to laugh.

The ancient blue-winged angel gave a suspicious glare to the mortal. "If it'll get him _off_ me, I suppose it is not a great chore." he said reluctantly, adjusting his hold on the brunette in his arms and swiftly pecking him on the lips. "Now would you wake _up_, Seto-kun?" he ordered, the pink colour returning to his cheeks with a vengeful glee.

"You realise you didn't need to kiss him on the lips? I'd imagine a peck on the cheek would've done the job, y'know." Bakura told him, another smirk adorning his features, while a more mischievous version of the same smirk featured on Atemu's face.

Dartz had no time to give the scathing reply he so dearly wished to, for almost immediately after their lips had met the brown-haired teen stirred, releasing his death-grip and blinking crystalline blue eyes blearily as he stretched like a cat in the angel's arms.

He looked up at Dartz's golden eyes and merely arched a brow as he asked; "Why the _hell_ am I in the arms of the yellow-eyed gentleman who so kindly ran me over in the halls yesterday?" in a still half-asleep voice.

"Seto, come! There's someone we need you to help us with- you know CPR, right?" Atemu asked, sobering up at the reminder of his original purpose in searching for his older cousin.

"Of course, but why..."  
"No time. Dartz let him down. Oh, and Bakura, are you or is Dartz better at healing or whatever it is you angels do?"

"I'm a _fallen_ angel now Atemu- I _can't_ heal anymore save with herbs and medicine."

Atemu frowned. "When did you fall? Why…? Oh never mind, you can tell me later, Dartz, you ought to come with us."

Forgetting the burden he'd been trying to rid himself of for the past half an hour, Dartz frowned. "What happened? Is someone else hurt? And what does C.P.R stand for?" he asked.

"Let me down you fool, time is of the essence when it comes to reviving someone without a heart-beat." ordered Seto, immediately grasping the gravity of the situation, slapping the angel's shoulder lightly and struggling.

"But how could you revive someone with no heartbeat? Angels do have the ability if the soul isn't long departed, but how _mortals_ could do it…" asked a still-confused Dartz, obeying the request and releasing the mortal in his arms.

Ignoring him, Atemu grabbed Seto's wrist and sprinted to the room Marik had expressly ordered them not to go into.

**---------------------------------------------**

The door was unlocked, as thought the dark angel had honestly expected them to obey him. Shoving the door open, ruby and sapphire locked onto the pitiful form lying on the small bed in the room.

"Something tore off his right wing- likely demons and he was found hanging from a tree by the other wing, which had gotten impaled on a branch as he fell." came the soft voice of Bakura behind them.

Seto clamped a hand to his mouth at the severed wing, still bloody and mangled lying lifelessly on the floor with a small puddle of silvery tinted liquid underneath the severed end (of what he didn't care to think about) on the floor beside the bed. Atemu merely gulped before gritting his teeth. He'd seen far worse on Bakura's back when the Tears had infected the many wounds. Didn't make it any less gruesome, but it was easier for him to deal with it than Seto appeared to be finding it.

"Don't look at the wing, let's just get to work. You get started on the chest compressions Seto and I'll start the rescue breaths." ordered the ruby-eyed teen, moving forward. Nodding, Seto appeared to pull himself together and also moved toward Malik.

"What are you _doing_?" asked Bakura incredulously as he saw Atemu lean into Malik as though to kiss the lifeless tenshi after tilting his head back and lifting his chin.

It was Seto who answered between counting his compressions. "He's breathing for this man- the idea is to start his lungs into their reflexive response of exhaling. It's supposed to help his lungs to re-start themselves while getting oxygen into his body. What I'm doing is forcing his heart to push blood through his system- though a good electric shock would be more helpful to actually re-start it…" Seto grunted.

"Lightning is the origin of this electricity is it not?" asked Dartz interestedly.

"In a way, but now isn't the time for Twenty Questions."

"I can give him a small jolt of 'electricity' then. How powerful and where?" the aqua-haired angel said calmly, moving forward. Seto shot him a quick look from distracted blue eyes. Of course he knew the other couldn't possibly have the proper equipment, but if he _could_ somehow get an electric jolt to this man's heart of the correct voltage it could prove to be tremendously useful…

"I'd not give a terribly strong jolt, or a weak one and it has to go straight to the heart. Though the machine is supposed to pick up how strong to make it- it measures the heart or something." he said shortly, returning his grim gaze to his work. "Not too strong remember, or you'll fry him." Atemu said, sitting up and moving away from the angel, Seto mimicking this motion.

Nodding, the ancient angel's pale hands stretched over the injured angel, and Seto _saw_ a crackle of what seemed to be lightning arc from his hands to the non-breathing tenshi, making his body shake for a second before returning to its previous position.

Shucking aside the shock at seeing the other man summon _lightning_, even such a small amount (though there was probably a _logical_ explanation for it) Seto pumped the other's chest the required numbers of times, as before regulating the pressure so as not to injure the wings; (logic dictated that there _was_ blood coming from the wing on the floor, so hence they must genuinely be attached- an experiment with human/animal cross-cloning perhaps?)

Checking the pulse, he said: "Atemu, we'll do another minute of this, then we'll have to ask you, Dartz to shock him again." he huffed, continuing the technique.

"What's all this noise? ...What the **_hell_** are you doing to Malik?!_Get away from him_!" yelled an enraged Marik, attracted by the power emanating from the room (not to mention the commotion they were making)

Bakura grabbed him, forcing the larger man's arms up behind his back, avoiding his angrily fluttering black wings. "You'd best hurry with whatever it is you're doing! I can't hold him forever!" he gasped, wincing as he felt several of the still healing wounds rip open as the furious dark angel fought his grip.

Seto laid an ear to the tenshi's chest. He thought he'd seen the other's chest rise by itself, and he wanted to check. "Would you all just _shut_ the fuck **_up_**!" he yelled, and the calculated use of the swear-word had the desired effect of causing the others to do as asked in surprise that he'd actually said it. He still couldn't hear a heart-beat (not that he'd really expected to- it would be a very faint beat if anything) lifted his head and laid his fingers on the tenshi's pulse.

Marik, Bakura and Dartz jumped at the flow of power that suddenly entered the room- it was neither angelic nor demonic- _but the inherent power of a human mage_ that ran through the boy's fingers into the tenshi. As quickly as hit had entered the power vanished.

"That last jolt of yours worked Dartz! He's got a pulse!" the mortal exclaimed, sending a brilliant smile at the shell-shocked blue angel. _'He's completely unaware that was **his** doing!'_ thought Bakura in shock.

"…**_what_**?!" Marik asked hoarsely.

"He's got a pulse! Dartz, start your healing or we'll lose him again, and I really don't want to tempt fate again." Atemu ordered, giving another puff of air. "He's not breathing on his own even though his heart's beating so you'll have to hurry!"

**---------------------------------------------**

Pulling himself together Dartz immediately closed his eyes and drew up the immense power that lay in his core. Carefully he sent it through the gold-winged angel's entire body, chasing and burning away infections and re-knitting torn muscle and re-building flesh. Heedless of the toll on _his_ body he pulled as much as he could into it, even forcing Malik's lungs to work on their own.

Light as a butterfly he touched upon the brain, checking and repairing what needed repairing from lack of oxygen. From there he moved to the injured wing, sweeping through and repairing breaks, fractures and the gaping hole, causing new flesh and feathers to form, though the new feathers were not the same golden hue, but a pale white.

Gasping, he pulled back to his own body, satisfied with a job thoroughly done- and done well. His gold eyes rolled back into his head and he fainted, the core of his power all but spent.

**---------------------------------------------**

Slender arms more used to typing and writing than labour of any sort caught the exhausted angel as Seto moved faster than the others would have expected from such as he.

Bakura moved to help support the weight, but Marik was simply too busy staring at the now one-winged angel whom had just sat up, staring disorientedly around him.

"…Malik…" he said softly, deep voice even hoarser than usual. "You… you're…"

"Where _am_ I?" Malik asked in a voice weak from disuse. "I remember… pain… _terrible_ pain… but then… I fell down, and it **_hurt_**…" he trailed off, startled at the usually stoic and somewhat cold Marik now clutching him to his chest.

"**_Marik_**?" he said half-disbelievingly as he felt what seemed to be… _tears_leaking into his hair. "What _happened_ to him?" he asked the others, surprised that the fallen angel was _crying_ for some reason.

"You were _dead_ Malik. Those two saved you, God alone knows how."

Lavender eyes widened in shock, hands automatically clutching at Marik's shirt. "I… _died_?"

"Marik, I hate to interrupt, but you'll have to help me move Dartz. The idiot used too much of his life-force to heal your Malik…" Bakura gasped, trying to keep the other winged man from landing on the floor.

"Let me take his weight, Bakura-sensei. You're injured; even I can see the blood. I can handle him, and if I need it, Atemu'll help me." Seto offered, automatically shifting to his all-capable CEO mode and taking control of the situation. "Show me where to take him."

Bakura nodded, carefully aiming his guilty eyes anywhere but at Atemu's disapprovingly upset expression. He knew full well the mortal was going to give him a royal tongue-lashing for his 'stupidly reckless stunt that endangers your own safety' as Atemu called them.

The dark angel was left alone with the one-winged angel in his arms.

**---------------------------------------------**

Reluctantly Marik let Malik go, ignoring the little voice telling him to never let the angel go again as he did so.

"Who… found my… body?" asked Malik awkwardly, not releasing his grip on Marik's shirt, moving closer as though seeking comfort.

Marik sighed, hands clenching into fists at the memory, at the hurt- and the rage that had torn at him when he'd realised the grievously injured tenshi was dead. " Me." he replied stiffly.

"I'd hoped it _wasn't_ you who found me." whispered Malik, turning his head away.

"What? Why?" asked a confused Marik. This was rather a lot for the black-winged man to handle, as he was by habit a cold individual, and the series of violent emotions that had streamed through him in the past couple of hours had left him in no shape to deal with any _more_ emotional complications.

"Because I don't like to be seen as weak." The lilac-eyed male gave him a sidelong glance from under his long lashes. "Especially… by _you_." he added softly and a rose-pink began to creep over his cheekbones.

"Why would that make me think you were weak? I _know_ you're not, you're a warrior in the Abyss, and you were probably just outnumbered when they… Though if I knew who'd done that to you, the Hall of Punishment would seem like a land of sunshine and rainbows…" Marik finished in an ominously murderous voice.

"You'd really hurt them over it?"

"No." Malik turned away fully at that. Steeling himself (and hoping his hunch was correct) Marik took his chin and turned his face towards his own. "I would make them scream and beg for death before I finally killed them. I'd probably bathe in their blood afterwards. Just for the satisfaction of spilling it." he added the last with a bloodthirsty grin.

"Remind me why you never became a demon?" Malik said, now a bright red.

"I liked the feathered wings too much." admitted Marik before roughly capturing the tenshi's lips with his own.

The one-winged angel's eyes widened at the sudden kiss before he smiled into the other's lips, wrapping his arms around the fallen angel's neck and pouncing on him.

"That was… an unexpected… reaction." Marik said between kissing his way up to the angel's ear, nipping gently at the lobe as he snaked his arms around the other, face showing his wonder that _he_ of all people was allowed to touch and caress such a perfect creature.

Malik gasped at the gentle bite. "Maybe you should pay more attention to the obvious." he grinned, subtly pushing his hips into Marik's.

"Maybe… I should."

**---------------------------------------------**

"Thanks for helping me… carry him. You can go now- I'll watch him until he wakes up." Seto told his cousin awkwardly. Atemu nodded, shooting a Look at Bakura, grabbing his larger hand and pulling him from the room.

Silent trepidation filled Bakura as his charge pulled him into the room to which he'd been confined while he healed, pushing him to sit on the bed wordlessly.

The dark-skinned mortal turned away from him and left the room and Bakura winced, not at the pain on his back and barely healed wings (though the pain _was_ rather pressing) but at the guilt he felt for not listening to Atemu when he'd tried to tell him to stay in bed for another week. They'd argued over him getting up and that had been the last time he'd spoken to the younger male till now.

"Turn around."

He looked up to see the object of his thoughts standing in the doorway in front of him with a basin of water and several scraps of clean linen. Automatically he obeyed, presenting his back and wings to Atemu's scrutiny.

"I would've thought you'd have had the sense to take this off." Atemu sighed as he put the basin down and moved to kneel in front of Bakura on the bed, carefully unbuttoning his shirt. The black-winged angel drew in his breath with a hiss as dark fingers brushed his chest accidentally.

"What's wrong?"

"Nothing Atemu."

"You should know by now that I don't like being lied to." replied the mortal tartly, gently slipping his hands under the lapels of the shirt and sliding it from Bakura's pale shoulders, extra careful as he got it off the large wings the shirt was modified to fit.

At that completely innocent gesture Bakura nearly sank his abnormally sharp teeth through his lip.

"Sorry." apologised Atemu as he moved back behind the injured male, placing the bloody shirt on the side-table.

"It is not you at fault."

"Meaning?" He felt the teen begin gently cleaning his re-opened wounds even as he asked his question.

"Exactly what I said." Bakura replied shortly, valiantly attempting to ignore the sweet fire the boy was stoking inside of him.

"Why do you always dance around my questions?" Atemu sighed.

"Not _all_ of them."

"Just the ones that matter."

Bakura was silent at that. The linen cloth made its way lower and lower down his back, carefully cleaning the few open cuts on his lower back before he heard Atemu squeeze out the cloth and set to work on his wings.

The black-feathered appendages had barely been strong enough even for such a short trip (not that he'd been about to tell _anyone_ that- he had too much pride) and unfortunately many of the deeper cuts upon the sensitive feather-covered flesh has opened as they had flapped.

"I was fully expecting you to say that you told me this would happen." Bakura said suddenly, more to take his mind off the gently rhythmic stroking of the cloth on his wings than anything.

Atemu made no answer, gently stretching the wing he was currently attending to gain access to another cut. The owner of said wing gasped.

"Sorry."

"You didn't hurt me." Bakura reassured him grimly; grateful the other couldn't see his face. "I wasn't actually expecting you to be so gentle."

"If I didn't hurt you, why did you gasp?" wondered Atemu aloud, causing Bakura to curse inwardly at the slip. _'How can he be so perceptive in some ways, yet so dense in others? He's such an innocent!'_ he despaired.

"Did any of the others tell you… anything about our wings? Just in passing or something." Bakura asked, choosing his wording carefully.

"Maybe, I don't really remember offhand. Why?"

"I was merely wondering."

Silence reigned as the mortal uncharacteristically let it slide. Several more minutes passed as Atemu finished his task and the fallen angel breathed a silent sigh of relief. His relief was short-lived however as he once more felt slender fingers trailing through the soft feathers on one of the rare uninjured spots on his left wing. _God_ it felt good. He immediately hated himself for the thought of course, but he had thought it nonetheless.

Completely unaware of the mounting desire within Bakura, Atemu's deft fingers slowly worked their way along the wing, carefully avoiding his many scattered injuries down to the point where feathers flowed into bare flesh. From there he lightly trailed his fingers across the white skin just between Bakura's wings carefully avoiding the varying cuts marring the otherwise flawless skin and softly fiddling with the smaller feathers at the base of his other wing. As soon as he did that, Bakura sucked in a rattling breath.

"A_te_mu…" he gasped. "No more damn it, I can't take it!"

"I'm not hurting you."

"That is the point! In fact that's exactly why I need you to stop!"

"Because it's not hurting." came the sceptical reply. Atemu's fingers were now running in tantalizingly gentle strokes across his feathers.

"Exactly! I need you to stop because you don't understand what you're doing!"

"How do you know I don't?" challenged Atemu.

Bakura turned his head. "_What_?" he asked disbelievingly.

Atemu's eyes were inscrutable, giving away nothing. "Your wings are very sensitive. All of your wings are. Do you think I didn't know that meant to pleasure as well as pain?"

"If you know that then you understand why I want you to _stop_." bit out Bakura through teeth gritted at the teasing caresses along his wings.

"Actually that's exactly why I _don't_ understand." the other said thoughtfully, pausing for a second as he pondered. "If it feels good, why do you want me to stop?" he asked, resuming his petting.

Bakura ground his teeth. Before the younger mortal could react, the white-haired angel had moved around, pinning him to the mattress, arms above his head with his knees either side of Atemu's hips. Bakura leaned down to his ear. "Because it feels _too_ good." he whispered, locks of silvery hair tickling the boy's face as he spoke. Atemu's eyes widened in… shock? Bakura hoped so. He couldn't resist kissing his ear, before moving down his neck, leaving a trail of butterfly kisses as he did so. "Because you're only sixteen." He lifted his head, staring sombrely into Atemu's wide ruby red eyes with his own brown tinted ones, too preoccupied with the need to shock the other to realise the emotion and sheer _want_ showing in his eyes. "And because you're an innocent who doesn't know what he's getting into." he finished quietly, pecking Atemu on the lips before moving back, reining in his bodily instincts.

Well, he tried. Atemu, you see had grabbed Bakura as soon as he released his hands, pulling the angel down to him, bodies flush against each other. The winged man's face was shocked as he realised what Atemu had done. His body began to react to the proximity of the younger male and he desperately tried _not_ to focus on how nice the boy felt beneath him and instead tried to focus on damage control.

"Sixteen is the legal age of consent and I may be an innocent… But I can be taught." countered Atemu with a small smile as he initiated another kiss, finally understanding what was going through Bakura's head.

Bakura pulled back from the kiss in shock. _'I didn't mean for that to happen! I meant to shock him into **rejecting** me- not seduce him into **wanting** me!'_ he cried out mentally, before forcing himself to reply and not go back to the sweetness of Atemu's mouth.

"Atemu, I…" His protest was stopped with another kiss. He caught the boy by the shoulders and pinned him again. "I _can't_ let you do that." _'No matter how much I may want you to.'_ he added mentally. "I can't let you tie yourself to me like that. I only wanted to prove a point." he improvised. He hadn't wanted to prove anything.

"Which would be?"

He gave a grimace, and for a second intense pain flickered across his features before he formed a cold gaze reminiscent of the Archangel's as she'd sentenced him. "That love and lust don't always keep the same company. And you're the sort of innocent person who would think that for _that_ to happen means you love each other. I'm afraid that I just _don't_ love you." he said ruthlessly, driving the verbal dagger deep, hoping, _hoping_ that it was enough, because he didn't think he could stand this anymore.

The other deserved better, and if they were to enter that sort of relationship it would be too dangerous for anything to come of it, and Atemu would only end up hurt. Especially if what Bakura suspected came to pass. He wanted more than anything to keep his charge- no, to keep _Atemu_ safe. It was no longer just because it was his duty to protect the boy. He thought he would rather die than allow anything to happen to the other- and he didn't want to think about why that was. He couldn't allow himself to think it, because he thought he might not be able to carry through with this if he did.

Atemu froze absolutely still as comprehension dawned. "I… I'm sorry. God, _what_ must you think of me? Throwing myself at you like that…" Atemu said in a self-mocking voice. "You probably think I'm an idiot for not realising."

Bakura looked away to hide the sharp pain that lanced through him at the hurt and anger in the dark-skinned teen's voice. What hurt most was that even then, the anger was not aimed at him.

Atemu pushed at Bakura, though he didn't have nearly enough strength to move him. Silently the black-winged angel moved, allowing the other to sit up.

"I'm sorry. It… it _won't_ happen again."

"Atemu…" His charge's name slipped from his lips, wishing he could soothe the pain that had caused the hurt on the teen's face. And knowing he couldn't.

**---------------------------------------------**

Ignoring Bakura, Atemu turned away and busied himself collecting the bandages and antiseptic stuff that Ryou had left a supply of which he'd brought from the cupboard so that he wouldn't show the treacherous tears he felt burning in his eyes. He would_ **not** _cry in front of Bakura. _'God,'_ he thought disgustedly._'What **possessed** me? I should've realised he was proving a point- but… he kissed me and I couldn't seem to stop myself. I guess I finally understand what they mean when they talk about 'hormonal teenagers'. I just screwed up. **Majorly** screwed up. I bet he doesn't even want to talk to me now.'_

He did not notice the sorrowful expression on Bakura's face.

* * *

(1.)- Yes, the events of the last two chapters occur rather close together- the angels moved quickly to inform Atemu what was going on so as to be able to protect him better- they knew that a strike so close would mean Atemu was in danger. As to the time Malik died, Ryou said in chapter 5 that he hadn't seen him in a while- Malik had been out doing a Recon mission- he was about to tell Marik what he'd found when he was intercepted before the message could even get to Marik. 

I know, more ANGST and a surprising return to plot! On the up-side, I did manage to include some Bronzeshipping fluff and a rather comedic Aquashipping (Dartz/Seto) moment. I hope I didn't approach the whole Malik-comes-back-Marik-confesses thing in the wrong way... Looking forward to bringing in the final pairing soon!

Please review!

Smile:D

Ireina


	8. Of Blue Hair and Demons

**When Angels Cry 8- Of Blue Hair and Demons.**

**

* * *

**

Yaoi/shonen-ai. If you don't like, please don't read. Flames will be extinguished with great prejudice due to the fact that it is bushfire season and I hate bushfires. Many Australians do.

--------

Rated for bloody descriptions of battle, torture and later limes. (You know I can't resist!) Considering a lemon in due time... ;)

--------

Dedicated to my reviewers! _(Italics anonymous)_

Cavialover

YugiTheDarkPharaoh

Nusku

ShadowCat17

Minasantaria

lynwoo

Shadow Over Egypt (Thanks for all your beta help! x3)

_Starshinesoldier_

_leencze_ (I'm burning, I'm burning! XD)

Shoy (Thank you for your offer, and I realised you were probably too busy, so I asked one of my other friends as well! Please forgive me!)

Natzu

Yami-no-Hikari-7

------------------

'Tis sorry I am for taking almost a year plus to do this! I had many troubles in real life, most of them school-related. But I shall no longer have the problems of school! For I have graduated on Friday the 21st November!!!

I also have a beta who will be working on a few of my stories for me, including this one- Thanks **Shadow Over Egypt** for your excellent work!

So here we go- back to at least _semi_-regular updates. I plan to work on WAC, ItD, Matagot, DT and From Egypt Till Eternity at the same time, depending on how my muses strike me. If you are interested in seeing a Death Note/Yu-Gi-Oh crossover, take a look at From Egypt till Eternity- Darkshipping/Casteshipping, LxLight and there will be possible hints of Bakura/L and Bakura/Light. This one is not my top priority, because I want to get WAC and ItD finished at _least_ before I work on that one.

Do forgive me for my failure at updating, and I hope you continue to enjoy reading! If you feel like it, I do enjoy reading your reviews- Critique is encouraged! (or how else am I to get better?)

Enjoy! :D  
~Ireina

* * *

_"Have you ever been in love? Horrible isn't it? It makes you so vulnerable. It opens your chest and it opens up your heart and it means that someone can get inside you and mess you up. You build up all these defenses, you build up a whole suit of armor, so that nothing can hurt you, then one stupid person, no different from any other stupid person, wanders into your stupid life...You give them a piece of you. They didn't ask for it. They did something dumb one day, like kiss you or smile at you, and then your life isn't your own anymore. Love takes hostages."- Neil Gaiman _

**---------------------------------------------**

Seto had to admit it - this delusion was a well thought out one, not that he'd expected any less from such a mind as his own. Absent sapphire orbs roamed over the limp form on the bed, taking in the exquisite detail his mind had seen fit to give the 'angel', from the long aqua hair fanning over the pillows, still in its clasp, to the long lashes only a shade darker lying in semi-circles on the rather pale skin.

Moving from the other male's face his gaze slowly took in the slender man's body. _'Slightly taller than me - broad-shouldered with slender hips and a proud carriage.'_ he noted. _'I wonder why he keeps his hair that long though. Surely it'd get in his way. And why he chose __**blue **__- well it's really more of an aqua…' _He ignored the slightly disturbing fact he was, in essence checking out another man, albeit an 'imaginary' one. _'…to dye it is beyond me. Surely that colour would draw too much attention for his liking. He seems to be the sort of man who hates to be the centre of everyone's attention, apart from those strange ramblings of his…' _ Seto wondered. _'He's a bundle of contradictions, this one.'_

He sat there several more minutes later, trying to ignore the strange impulse to release that long hair from its clasp (_'…It must be uncomfortable to sleep __**wearing**__ that thing.'_) his mind reasoned. His right eye gave a twitch.

"All _right_ already." he muttered to himself and with uncharacteristic gentleness he undid the clasp holding the unconscious man's long hair, whereupon he inadvertently discovered the purpose of the clasp- the waterfall of hair fell to pool on the floor!

When Dartz was standing, Seto would've guessed that it would've all fallen at _least_ to the other man's ankles, perhaps even lower.

Seto carefully pulled up the thin sheet and blanket, tucking it around Dartz's shoulders as though the angel were a small child and brushed the strands from his face. He lifted the mane of aqua hair from the floor in order to place it on the bed or pillow, just to keep it out of the way, but as small tendrils of the stuff slid through his fingers he realised that, not only did the hair feel as thought it had never seen a bottle of dye in its lifetime, it in actual fact felt soft and lush and almost silken against his skin. Cerulean eyes widened in wonder and he indulged the whim to keep running it through his hands like the waterfall it so resembled for a brief time before he realised just what he was doing.

'_What in __**God's**__ name did I do that for?!'_ he thought, somewhat disgusted with himself. _'I'm petting the hair of a complete stranger! While he's __**asleep**__, no less!'_ The young CEO shook his head as he carefully gathered the array of long hair and in the most impersonal and businesslike way he could muster he followed through on his original intention, arranging the hair on the bed beside the miraculously still sleeping angel.

"Oh, I'm _terribly_ sorry, I didn't know anyone else was here," came a soft voiced apology suddenly from the general direction of the door.

Seto started, feeling slightly guilty, like a child caught with their hand in the cookie jar before turning to see yet _another _person with wings, these an emerald green. What _was_ it with his imagination and _wings_?

"Whatever. I'm-"

"Kaiba Seto. I know." The green-winged man said, smiling gently. "I was just going to check on Dartz. I heard what you did when I arrived. Marik owes you much."

"Atemu-chan and Dartz-san helped too." replied Seto, flapping a hand dismissively.

"What you did brought Marik great happiness - he loves Malik so, but being the way he is he did not realise it for such a long while. He was actually looking for Malik to confess what he felt when he found his body. The poor man was destroyed by it. You gave back his life, not just Malik's, and he will feel honour-bound to return the favour sometime."

"Marik-san loved Malik-san?"

"Do not sound so surprised. Love knows no gender." Ryou chastised, pain flickering through his brown eyes.

Seto (being astute at reading expressions.) caught this, but dismissed it as being none of his business. The angel fluttered over to the bed, placing his fingertips at either of Dartz's temples and closed his eyes briefly, before nodding.

"He's just magically exhausted. He'll be fine in several days, but he should sleep for most of it. If he wakes up, the others will know what to do, just _don't_ let him bully you into letting him get out of bed. Though-" Here he gave Seto a sombre, appraising look. "I think he'd have no luck bullying _you_."

'_Damn straight.'_ Seto thought to himself with a small smirk directed at the prone man on the bed, not bothering to read into Ryou's statement.

Ryou caught the smirk and shook his head, a smile teasing at the corners of his lips before he left.

**---------------------------------------------**

The newest arrival to the house's next item of business for Ryou was to visit Malik and check on him, but the noises singular to a thorough make-out session coming from his room quickly dissuaded him from _that_. It was not urgent, and so he decided instead to find Bakura.

He was rather surprised to hear a quiet sniffle come from one of the rooms. Raising an eyebrow, the angel's compassionate nature urged him to trace its source. His surprise only increased when he discovered Atemu there, Bakura sitting on the bed, bandages being the only things covering his torso. Bakura gave Ryou a guilty, pleading look before he stood and almost ran from the room.

Ryou narrowed his eyes at the closed door the fallen angel had left through, mentally promising to half-kill his friend if he'd had anything to do with the innocent boy's distress.

"What's wrong, Atemu-chan?" he asked gently, moving to sit on the edge of the bed, patting the space beside him. Unexpectedly, the younger male threw himself into the angel's arms, tears flowing freely into the startled tenshi's clothing.

"Atemu-chan?"

"I can't believe I _did_ that! God, I swear I was so naive! Bakura must be disgusted at me!"

"Did what Atemu? What happened?" asked the doe-eyed angel, brow furrowed in confusement.

"I didn't know- he was right, I _didn't_ understand what I was getting myself into and I misinterpreted everything and it's all a big mess…"

Ryou sighed; automatically rubbing the sixteen year-old's back in circles in an attempt to soothe him. This was going to take far longer than he'd thought.

**---------------------------------------------**

"You know Sumiko, it's the _strangest_ thing! I could have _sworn_ that there was a piece of blue hair on the ground when we were sent in to retrieve that demon and clear up its mess." the grey-winged male angel said nonchalantly, sending a look to his pink-winged companion. "The others keep telling me that they didn't see it though." he continued, still staring into the woman's eyes.

"_Blue_? You mean like Rain's hair or more green-tinged like the Chief Librarian's?" replied Sumiko with feigned interest.

"Almost _exactly_ like the Chief Librarian's now I come to think on it." he replied, with faux realisation, removing his stare from her. "But I must've been mistaken. After all, he's been here with_ you_, not gallivanting around the Mortal Realms." he said smoothly, glancing sideways at her.

Taking his thinly veiled hint to mean that _she_ was beginning to become more suspicious of her precious Dartz, the female tenshi tilted her head to one side, wisely deciding not to tell _him_ that the Chief Librarian had in fact _not_ been with her in the libraries for several days now. After all, he would have no choice but to report it to _her_.

"Thank you for telling me that." she told him shyly. "I know… the risk it…"

"Telling you what?" he replied, cutting her off with a mischievous smirk before leaving the room.

**---------------------------------------------**

"You are absolutely _sure_ it belongs to him." the Lady demanded, fingertips digging into the arms of her chair, as thought the news she'd just been given caused her physical pain.

He closed his eyes. "There's no mistaking it, my Lady." he said softly. _'I'm sorry…'_

"I was sure he was a staunch supporter of _mine_! I was sure he'd support me even when I came into the open with the plan! How can it be…? Why would he do this? He can't yet know of our true plans of course, we've been so careful… But, even then, _why_ did he enter the Mortal Realm without clearance?!"

"I do not know, my Lady. Due to his routine rejection of socialising, everyone thought he was holed up in the Libraries on one of his experiments. Even his assistant, Sumiko…"

"I _know_ who Sumiko is, I suggested you place her there, remember!" she snapped, holding a hand to her face, frowning at the beginnings of a headache.

"Yes, of course. Anyway, even Sumiko thought he was doing work on some personal project."

"There's really nothing for it now. I _had_ hoped to win him completely to our side, he's a logical man, and he would have come. With his power and intelligence he would've been a great boon to us. But with this incident… He must be eliminated. We can't afford to have him against us." She shook her head slowly, the familiar dull ache beginning to gnaw at her mind.

"Here, Lady." The male with the large grey wings stepped forward and laid his hands on either side of her face, closing his eyes in concentration for a moment, before reopening them. "There, that ought to feel somewhat better." he said with a bright smile, making to move back. Before he could lift his hands from her face, she laid one of her own daintily pale ones over his much larger and marginally darker hand, offering a small smile, eyes gleaming.

"Thank you. It is good to know I have such… _truly loyal_ followers."

The grey-winged man gave her an unreadable smile in response. _'Truly loyal. Hmph.' _he thought bitterly. _'I had to tell her. Telling Sumiko also was the best I could do to circumvent her plans. I'm so sorry…'_

**---------------------------------------------**

Bakura sighed absently, slipping the fresh shirt on. It was Marik's and as such, rather large on his smaller frame, but his other shirt was apparently being washed (for he couldn't find it anywhere) and the second had had to be burnt. (Ryou had insisted- apparently it was possible the contagion caused by the Tears could re-infect the still healing wounds.)

He did up the top button but before he did the second he rubbed frustratedly at his temples. He was feeling terrible about how he'd had to treat Atemu, but there was really no help for it.

Someone in Heaven was orchestrating the whole issue, and Atemu was probably only a piece of the jigsaw. An important piece, but only a _piece_ nonetheless. From what he'd seen they wanted, no, _needed_ Atemu dead. They'd 'eliminated' Bakura from the picture (or so they seemed to think), Malik (and, by proxy Marik) as well as whomever had been Atemu's original Guardian, thereby destroying anyone who was powerful enough (and motivated enough) to offer the boy protection.

He knew that he would rather sacrifice himself than allow them to lay a finger on the teen, and from their reckless attack at the school, he knew that was a highly likely scenario. They were either getting desperate or were so powerful they simply didn't care if they were discovered- either one could be fatal.

Continuing to button the shirt he frowned. If he _were_ to die, he would _not_ leave Atemu unprotected. Sure, Marik was extraordinarily powerful as was Dartz and Malik was no pushover, nor was Ryou. But even Dartz did not have the strategic mind for warfare that Bakura had- and a mind used to strategic thinking would be needed for what would eventually become out-and-out guerrilla warfare.

'_No, the only way to ensure Atemu's safety would be to find out who the mastermind behind this whole thing is, and then unmask them.'_ he thought. _'…and the best way to do that is to find his previous Guardian- __**if**__ they still live. Surely they would know something about this.'_ Grimly he finished buttoning up the shirt. _'The best way to do that is for me to simply disappear- I can work fast, unhindered by other people or attacks. The only drawback is that once I am completely out of the picture, there is the possibility they will send more and more of their minions against the boy.'_ he thought, deliberately not using Atemu's name in an effort to distance himself from his ward. _'Not even with Dartz's inheritance will only four be able to stand against a blitzkrieg style of attack. But… I'm afraid I may have to take that chance. Yes, I'll __**have**__ to go. But I can't just leave the poor boy to think that __**that**__ incident before was his fault.'_ he thought guiltily, the lightly spicy taste of vanilla rising to the forefront of his memory.

Bakura still couldn't believe that Atemu could affect him so! He had believed he had better control over his desires. It was completely _disgraceful_ behaviour, especially considering the magnitude of years (and experience) between them.

That decided he strode purposefully from the room, heading back to the room he'd only just left.

He neared the door, slowing as he heard Ryou's voice murmuring and… _Atemu's_ voice replying. With growing apprehension he reached for the silver handle, pressing and pushing it open in one swift movement.

He was sure his heart stopped for several seconds at the sight that greeted him. Ryou's arms were wrapped tightly around Atemu in what appeared to be a loving embrace, Atemu's head on his shoulder, face against his neck.

Hurt and anger flared inside him. Forcing back the temptation to rip them from each other, he choked out; "I'm terribly sorry for interrupting..." before swivelling around and near running from the room, ignoring Atemu and… _him_ calling him to come back.

'_Why in God's holy name am I so upset?! I have to leave the boy anyway, and it was my purpose to drive Atemu away so I wouldn't hurt him when I did, but…' _He unconsciously grimaced in pain as he continued fleeing blindly down the halls. _'This… the image of him and Ryou…__**together **__still hurts.'_

**---------------------------------------------**

A pleasant, sort of _tickling_ sensation gently tantalised him into a state of semi-awareness, travelling down along his body, before the feeling stopped for a second then returning. He realised his hair was unbound, which gave him the sneaking suspicion he knew what that sensation was.

Leaving his eyes closed, he ignored the pleasant tickling as best he could. Soon enough, he felt it stop and he heard, as though from a great distance a small 'tutting' noise before he felt the weight of his hair completely lifted and laid back on the bed beside him. Almost as soon as this was done, the tickling stopped, confirming his suspicion.

He would have wished it back if he hadn't known what it was, and what it heralded.

"Oh, I'm terribly sorry; I didn't know anyone else was here."

Dartz only half-listened to the conversation from there, content to drift comfortably in and out of the pleasant state of sleep he kept finding himself in. He was vaguely aware of two fingers pressing to either of his temples briefly before he felt the gentle brush of Ryou's familiar power.

"…just _don't_ let him bully you into letting him out of bed." came Ryou's voice warningly.

'_I do not __**bully**__.'_ he thought somewhat indignant at the suggestion. _'I make __**forceful suggestions**_._'_

"Though- I think he'd have no luck bullying _you._"

Knowing that infuriating mortal he appeared to have been Bonded to, Ryou was (as much as he hated to admit it) quite possibly right. His nature, his very _heritage_ would not allow him to argue with his Bonded's happiness, even if they _technically_ weren't Bonded yet.

(If asked, when completely aware, awake and whatnot, Dartz would have denied fervently any and all thoughts pertaining to Seto possibly being his Bonded.)

And with that last thought, he finally wandered back to the temptation of deep sleep that went with magical exhaustion.

**---------------------------------------------**

He found himself reawakening to something heavy resting across his hips and lower stomach and that same odd feeling from earlier roaring across his nerve-endings, demanding more.

Golden eyes flew open in shocked disbelief, searching for the source of the weight. He almost had a heart-attack when he saw a familiar brown-haired teen slumped across him, almost using him as a pillow, cheek against his stomach.

His eyes widened for a minute, raw panic flaring in their depths before returning to normal as he forced himself into calm.

Seto shifted slightly, a lock of brown tumbling over his face. Hesitantly, and with a tiny smile Dartz carefully returned the hair to its previous place, tucking it behind the curve of the other's ear, resisting the urge to stroke his cheek, his usually cool and unreadable eyes unusually soft as he looked at the younger male with an odd expression on his face.

He shook his head at the unusually affectionate gesture (and the increasingly irritating urging of his body to do _something_ about their intimate positioning.) and promptly directed his thoughts down a somewhat _safer_ route.

It seemed that Seto's untrained use of power was like to be the cause of his slumber- he slept much too deeply for it to be natural. Absently his fingers tangled themselves in the short brown hair as he thought. Seto's power… The natural powers of a mortal mage. Could that be the cause of this?

'_In all the history of my people, not __**once**__ has anyone been Bonded to a human, and contrary to popular belief there were plenty around. The only difference in this case I can think of that might be at fault is Seto's magery.' _(Which, when he thought about it was highly ironic- a hardened sceptic having such powerful magic?) _'But __**why**__ such a thing could allow a Bond of this strength with one such as me…It's an unusually powerful Bond, even stronger than between two purebloods of the aristocracy.'_

Finding a knot among the warm strands, his nimble fingers automatically began to unravel it with great care. He watched with mild interest as the knot slowly disappeared under his skilled attentions.

How many times had he un-tangled knots from his daughter's hair as she grew? He sighed, a barely audible sound of regret.

'_Perhaps if…'_ But no, it was no use. It had happened and it would not do to dwell on the past.

Carefully he extricated his hand from the chestnut locks, letting the limb flop beside him. As though drawn by some force otherworldly, Dartz's eyes travelled down to the finely boned face of the younger man currently sprawled across his hips. (_'It is lucky I have complete control over my body…'_ he noted with wry pride.)

He really _was_ exquisitely built, Dartz had to admit. Seto Kaiba had the delicate bone-structure typical of the Japanese culture to which he was native, but with all the height of a Westerner, almost the same height as Dartz himself, give or take a few centimetres.

While it was hard to tell under the school-issue blue jacket, the lines of his body were accentuated with lean ropes of softly defined muscle. _'But,'_ he thought, _'it is those eyes of his that make him truly attractive…'_

Those azure-hued eyes, so uncommon among the people of Seto's birth, in fact that exact hue of blue also being rare among the Western societies.

They had been the first thing that Dartz had noticed, sparkling with a sarcastic wit beyond his years and yet also the fiercely repressed curiosity of a young child. A contradiction, a paradox.

That was Seto Kaiba.

The angel sighed once more. He definitely did _not_ like the suddenness and intensity of this second Bond, so much stronger than the first. He knew all too well that he had no choice in the matter, even if the Bond was to another of the same gender. Still, the sheer force of it was frightening.

The teenaged male lying across Dartz stirred, and so, to the angel's utter horror, did his own body. Despite his 'complete control' over it.

Stretching like a cat, Seto woke properly, blinking slightly as he looked up at his 'pillow,' and ran a hand through his slightly tousled hair.

"Good then. You're awake." he said with the usual straight-to-the-point tact… and… was that a _blush_ creeping onto the young mortal's cheeks? "I… well, it wasn't… on purpose… that is, I didn't mean to… fall asleep, you know, _on_ you." he said, his words stumbling over themselves. Then, as an afterthought; "I apologise for that."

His voice was abrupt in tone, but the blush coupled with the sudden refusal to look him in the eye told Dartz something very important.

Seto felt the Bond too.

**---------------------------------------------**

"Why did he run off like that, Ryou-san?!" huffed a tired Atemu despairingly. "He couldn't have thought we were…" He went a delicate rose colour. "And… even if he _did_ think… _that_, why would he care? It doesn't make sense."

"Atemu, he probably _did _think we were doing _that_, and as to the reason he cared? You should really be asking him that, not me." replied a similarly gasping Ryou. "And in order for you to do that, we have to find him first."

"But Ryou-san, he's _nowhere_!" cried Atemu somewhat childishly. "What if he…"

Ryou cut him off. "He's here and we will _find_ him."

Nodding his head Atemu agreed and they continued through the dwelling.

In his head Ryou was cursing. _'That complete __**idiot**__! Did he not notice that Atemu had been crying? Honestly, he __**knows**__ I can read him like a book, he knows I know he cares for Atemu more than he lets on. He ought to __**know**__ I'd never betray him like that! Even worse, how could he honestly __**think**__ I'd be over him after I'd been in mourning for him for almost seventeen years?! That insecure, __**untrusting**__, __**imbecile**__! Why, it's __**his**__ fault Atemu had been crying in the first place!' _Ryou thought furiously.

Though, after all the events leading up to Bakura's first 'death' (and consequent transmigration) it really was no wonder that he was so mistrustful.

After all, trust had cost Bakura his mortal life.

Ryou sighed. "You go that way, and if you see him call out. I'll hear." he ordered.

Atemu nodded, biting his lower lip before rushing in the direction indicated.

**---------------------------------------------**

Thoughts rushed through the young mortal's brain at an increasingly high speed. _'Bakura thought Ryou and I were about to make love. He went so __**white**__, like snow. Even paler than he is normally. He almost looked as thought he'd been hit before he ran off. What am I missing? Why did he react that way, when he just told me-'_

He blushed in embarrassment, not so much at the earlier confrontation with Bakura, but at the remembered sensation of the angel's mouth on his neck and the still lingering minty, exotic taste as those beautifully shaped lips touched his softly, the taste which had made him understand something; the taste that had driven to seek more of that deliciousness…

'_-that, in essence all he felt for me was lust. If he just wants my body, surely it wouldn't matter to him whether or not I have sex with someone else. Would it? Besides, if he feels nothing but lust for me than what right does he have to be so upset about me sleeping with someone else?' _he thought somewhat self-righteously, before he paused as a strong sense of premonition crossed his mind, the same sort of sense that had come over him in the car with his aunt and uncle.

The one that had urged him to scream, or do _something_, because something bad was going to happen.

The one that he'd ignored.

He stopped dead, dread suddenly slamming into his mind. Atemu turned and ran through the halls, heading for the door in the entranceway.

Instinct proved him right as he saw the familiar curtain of white hair and gaunt black wings that sprung from an equally emaciated (1) back.

"Bakura-san." he whispered. Before he knew it he was moving and his arms went around Bakura's waist, Atemu's cheek pressing to his bony back between his wings.

"Let go of me Ate- _Takimura_-san." came the response, almost robot-like and without any inflection or emotion whatsoever.

"_Don't_ leave." Atemu didn't know what made him do it, but he buried his face in the soft feathers at the base of the black wing on the left. Bakura sucked in a breath.

"Remove yourself from my person _now_, boy." he ordered.

"Please… don't do this."

"_Now._"

Atemu's ruby eyes closed in despair. It seemed he was completely unable to thwart fate after all. It was then the feeling became sure, and he somehow knew that this was truly the last time he would feel the angel's warmth. Several tears spilled over onto the feathers before he obeyed the request that was not a request.

Without turning, Bakura said; "Goodbye…" adding something under his breath that was inaudible to Atemu's ears as he left.

Atemu heard a rustling behind him, and a pair of darkly-tanned men entered the hall, the taller one calling Bakura's name.

"Why didn't you _stop_ him?!" came the furious voice of the newly-revived Malik, the one-winged angel surging forward and shaking Atemu by the shoulders, his lover tensing as though ready to take flight.

Atemu looked away from the tenshi, tears flowing faster down his cheek, despite his best efforts to force them away. "Do you think…I could have stopped him? He wanted to go." the mortal said morosely, dashing away several of the damning tears with a sniff.

Pale lavender met darker lilac over the teen's head and the crying teen was sandwiched between the two older winged males in a fierce hug.

"Don't _cry_ kid. He'll come back. He probably just went to get something." the black-winged man gruffly assured him.

'_How do I tell them that I know he won't?'_

**---------------------------------------------**

"So. That's… that then." Bakura said aloud as he flew above the cottony clouds. "All… all I have to do now is find his previous… Guardian."

All of a sudden (or so it seemed) he found his eyes itching. "Stupid… bugs." he muttered viciously as he rubbed at the itching/burning sensation, ignoring the liquid on his hand.

And the fact that bugs rarely flew on an altitude common to small aeroplanes.

He wasn't going to admit those heart-breaking pleas had had anything to do with the slightly glowing liquid that was falling from his eyes. It was all the fault of those stupid bugs.

Yes.

Stupid bugs,

At any rate, yes. The last known location of Atemu's ex-Guardian. That would be the best place to start. Bakura had been a warrior-angel at the time, and rarely had he heard anything from the Upper Quarter, save intelligence. Oh, of course he heard _some_ things, but not _nearly _so much as perhaps Dartz or Ryou would have.

He fluttered back towards the ground, weakened wings still unable to fly long without frequent breaks and rests. He leaned his forehead against the slightly rough pale brown bark of the tree he was using for cover from watching eyes. "Atemu…" he repeated what he'd whispered, squeezing his eyes shut and pounding the tree half-heartedly with his fist. "I'm sorry, but this is for the best…"

"Who's there?" came a slightly husky feminine voice. "Are y' a friend of his?"

From behind a cluster of several trees stepped an older lady wearing a plain cream kimono with patterns of dark green plum-blossoms along the hem and sleeves. She had steel-grey hair and a milky-white sheen to her eyes.

She was blind.

Bakura's eyes widened. _He hadn't realised she was there_. "I- no, I wouldn't say I'm his friend…"

"You know y're the second angel to tell me that." she grumbled peevishly. "I wish you winged folk'd figure out what y'are to people before you go mumbling their names."

"_**Angel**_?" he asked disbelievingly.

Ignoring him, the odd woman turned and began to amble back from where she'd come.

**---------------------------------------------**

"Seto Kaiba, I am _not_ going to be pushed around by you. I _am_ going to get up and I _am_ going to take a bath, and there is _nothing_ you can do to stop me, damn it!" The proud angel proclaimed as he struggled for all he was worth (which wasn't terribly much in his much weakened state) against the slender hands on his chest that were currently holding him down into the pillows effortlessly.

"Dartz-san, I have been told _not_ to let you up. Even if I hadn't been, do you honestly think I'd let you up after you'd _fainted_ into my arms not four hours ago? I am not as stupid as you appear to think." Seto pointed out calmly, ignoring the firmly muscled chest against his hands.

"I. Am. Fine, leannan. Let me _bathe_ at least. I promise I will return to the bed straight after I am finished." Dartz bargained, pausing in his struggle to capture the blue eyes of mortal in front of him with his own yellow ones.

Seto shook his head, ignoring both the request and the strange fluttering in the region of his stomach caused by those cat-like eyes. "What does 'leannan' mean, Dartz-san?" he asked, suspicious of this foreign word.

Dartz froze. "Do not concern yourself with it." the angel sighed, pink slowly creeping up his cheeks as he placed his hands on Seto's shoulders, pushing. "Let me up!"

"You would need help to get into the bathroom and likely help to bathe also. There is no-one here to do that." Seto reasoned. "And don't change the subject like that… _why_ on Earth are you blushing? What does 'leannan' mean?" he asked again, suspicion increasing.

"Oh for Hekate's sake, are _you_ so incapable?! Surely you could manage to offer a _little_ assistance." exclaimed Dartz, sounding irritated.

Seto's eyes went wide as he froze. "You _can't_ be implying..."

"Your culture treats communal bathing very casually, so what is your damn problem?" Dartz exclaimed. Irritation spread over his features at Seto's shocked gaze and frozen facial expression. "Oh never _mind_! If it offends your delicate sensibilities so very much, I'm sure _Ryou_ would be up to the task." Dartz huffed snippily. "Let me up, and I'll call him."

Seto ignored this, looking down at the (currently scowling) face of the older man beneath him. He had, of course been to a bath-house before, and in truth _he_ didn't know what his problem was with helping someone who was not at their best to bathe. There wouldn't be anything… like _that_ going on- it would, of course be perfectly fine for him to assist- they _were_ both male after all.

The young man sighed, unable to find a reason to refuse to assist. "Fine. I'll help you." he grumbled, sitting back and crossing his arms. "But you can damn well sit up and stand by yourself before we go anywhere."

Dartz gave him a slightly disbelieving look at his sudden compliance before tentatively sitting up. When met with no resistance from Seto he pushed back the blankets and shakily stood properly, thick aqua hair tumbling to pool around his feet. Irritably he batted at a strand of the stuff, swaying slightly as he did so, wings automatically spreading to help balance him. His jacket had, of course been removed before he'd been put to bed, and his slacks were (though still zipped) unbuttoned at the top, causing them to slide to hang precariously around his hip-bone. With his shirt rumpled and untucked, and his hair unclipped and hanging around his face in such wild disarray (not to mention the highly tempting position of his slacks) he looked thoroughly _eatable_.

"Would you hurry up, Seto-kun. I _am_ still weak you know. Using that much energy's not a picnic… Remind me never to do that again." he added thoughtfully.

Seto shook his head, sternly ordering himself to _'Get a grip!'_ and standing, he swiftly caught the winged man, steadying him and supporting his weight just as the other's knees buckled.

Golden eyes stared up at him. "Thank you." Dartz told Seto.

Out of automatic response more than anything else Seto replied; "You're welcome."

* * *

(1)- Bakura _has_ been out of captivity for several weeks now, however after such a long period of semi-starvation, he still has troubles eating the amount of food he needs to recover properly due to a shrunken stomach.

So there we go- I hope you all enjoyed this chapter- keep an eye out for more to come! I'm back baby!!

If you'd like to, leave a review!

Smile! :D

~Ireina


End file.
